Jeongguk’s thighs flexed, muscles tight as he drove up into Taehyung’s sloppy cunt from below. The leather chair squeaked under them, drowned out by the obscene slap of skin against skin. Taehyung’s skirt was bunched uselessly around his waist, unclipped bra slapping against his skin, his hole stretched wide around Jeongguk’s fat cock. Every thrust forced a wet squelch, cunt juices gushing down his thighs, dripping onto the chair, pooling on the floor.

Taehyung’s boobs bounced inches from Jeongguk’s face, red and swollen from the slaps, nipples flushed and throbbing. Sweat streaked down his breast, mixing with spit and dried cum, his head thrown back, mascara ruined, hair sticking to his damp forehead. He didn’t look like a professor. He didn’t look like a wife. He looked like a ruined bitch who couldn’t live without a young cock.