Bore Your Daughter At Work Day

Hazel Grace and Gianna Dior sit at the conference table, both of them sulking. Bring Your Daughter to Work Day dragged them through empty hallways and stale rooms while their parents stayed locked in meetings. Boredom hangs thick between them until a look stretches into a second one, longer, heavier. Chairs scrape closer. Lips meet. Tongues slide, slow at first, then greedy. Hazel grins against Gianna’s mouth, then slips beneath the table. Her hands tug Gianna’s thighs apart. Gianna’s skirt rides up. Hazel’s tongue finds her clit and circles it, wet and insistent. Gianna’s head drops back, tits heaving. She reaches down, fingers knotting in Hazel’s hair, pulling her closer. The table edge presses into Gianna’s lower back while Hazel feasts, mouth working deeper, lips shiny. Gianna’s hips roll, chasing each stroke. When Hazel comes up for air she wipes her chin, climbs onto the table, and they trade places. Now Gianna’s tongue drags between Hazel’s folds, broad and sure. Hazel’s legs tremble on either side of her head. She grinds down, riding the pressure, then leans forward so they can press together, slick heat meeting slick heat. Their hips find a rhythm, cunt to cunt, rocking until the table squeaks. Each thrust sends a wet sound through the quiet room. Gianna’s big tits bounce with every movement; Hazel’s smaller ones press against them when she bends down for another kiss. Sweat beads on Gianna’s collarbone. Hazel licks it away. Their breathing turns ragged, thighs quaking, until one last shared grind sends them both over, muffled cries swallowed by the empty room. They stay tangled a moment longer, skin cooling, then straighten skirts and hair as footsteps echo down the hall outside.