The dim fluorescent lights of the empty office buzzed overhead like a swarm of hungry insects, casting long shadows across the cluttered desks and filing cabinets. Breanne Benson, the fresh-faced teen intern with a body that screamed glamour even in her tight pencil skirt and blouse, hunched over her computer screen. Her brunette locks fell in shaggy waves around her shoulders, framing a face that looked innocent enough for a high school yearbook but hid shocking shaggy young secrets that would make even the most jaded executive blush. At nineteen, she was the epitome of skinny teen allure—slender limbs, a tiny waist, but blessed with silicone tits that strained against her top like overripe melons begging to be squeezed, and a big ass that swayed hypnotically when she walked the halls.
The clock ticked past midnight, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and printer ink, mingled with Breanne’s subtle perfume—a sweet, musky floral that hinted at the wild teen porno fantasies she harbored. She’d been working late on some bullshit report, but her mind wandered to the free teen porn videos she’d streamed earlier that day, her fingers itching between her thighs under the desk. Little did she know, Mr. Harlan, her stern boss in his forties with a chiseled jaw and a bulge that she’d caught glimpses of in meetings, hadn’t left the building. He watched from the doorway, his cock twitching at the sight of her biting her lip, one hand absently tracing the curve of her big tits.
“Burning the midnight oil, Breanne?” His voice rumbled low, sending a shiver down her spine. She jumped, her chair creaking as she spun around, those shaggy brunette strands whipping across her flushed cheeks. Harlan stepped in, closing the door with a soft click that echoed like a promise. The office suddenly felt smaller, hotter, the air charged with unspoken lust. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal veined forearms that screamed power. Breanne’s eyes darted to his crotch, where the outline of his big cock pressed against his slacks—a monster she’d only dreamed about in her teen sex reveries.
“I… I just wanted to finish up, sir,” she stammered, but her voice was breathy, laced with the raw hunger of a brunette teen on the edge. Harlan smirked, circling her desk like a predator, his cologne—a sharp, woody scent—invading her senses. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, and whispered, “I saw what you were watching on your browser history earlier. Those teen porn clips. Naughty girl. Think you can handle the real thing?”
Her heart pounded, pussy clenching at the exposure of her shocking young secrets. Before she could protest, his hand was on her shoulder, sliding down to cup one of those silicone tits through her blouse. The fabric was thin, her nipple hardening instantly under his palm, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The touch was electric—rough fingers kneading the firm, fake fullness that jiggled so perfectly. “Fuck, these are incredible,” he growled, pinching the peak until she whimpered. The office air grew heavy with the musky tang of her arousal, her thighs rubbing together as wetness soaked her panties.
Harlan didn’t waste time. He yanked her up by the arm, spinning her around and bending her over the desk. Papers scattered like confetti, the clatter mixing with her ragged breaths. His hands roamed her skinny frame, hiking up her skirt to reveal lace panties stretched taut over her big ass. “Such a glamour teen, pretending to be all professional,” he taunted, slapping her cheek hard enough to make it ripple, the sting blooming into heat that pooled between her legs. She moaned, arching back, the sound wet and desperate, like the slurp of lips on skin in her favorite blowjob scenes.
He tore her panties down, exposing her shaved, glistening pussy to the cool office air. The scent hit him—sweet and salty, pure teen nectar. Dropping to his knees, Harlan buried his face between her thighs, tongue lashing out to taste her. Breanne cried out, gripping the desk edge, her big tits heaving as his mouth devoured her folds. He sucked on her clit like it was candy, the wet smacks echoing off the walls, her juices coating his chin. “Oh god, yes… eat my teen pussy,” she begged, her voice a husky plea, shaggy hair sticking to her sweat-dampened neck.
But oral was just the appetizer. Harlan stood, unzipping his pants with a metallic rasp that made her pulse race. His big cock sprang free—thick, veined, at least nine inches of throbbing meat that made her mouth water. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, glistening under the lights. “On your knees, slut,” he commanded, and Breanne obeyed, her skinny body sinking to the carpet, those silicone tits bouncing as she knelt. She wrapped her small hands around his shaft, feeling the heat pulse against her palms, the skin velvet-smooth over steel.
Her lips parted, tongue flicking out to lap at the head, savoring the salty tang. Then she engulfed him, blowjob skills honed from countless free teen porn viewings coming alive. She bobbed her head, shaggy brunette locks swaying, taking him deeper until he hit the back of her throat. Gagging sounds filled the room—gluck, gluck—mixed with his grunts of pleasure. Saliva dripped down her chin, soaking her blouse, making the fabric cling transparently to her big tits. Harlan tangled his fingers in her hair, fucking her face with shallow thrusts, the scent of his musk overwhelming her senses.
“That’s it, teen whore, suck that big cock like you mean it,” he rasped, his balls tightening as she hollowed her cheeks. But he pulled out before he lost control, strings of spit connecting her lips to his glistening tip. Hauling her up, he stripped her roughly—blouse buttons popping, skirt pooling at her ankles. Naked now, her glamour body on full display: skinny yet curvaceous, big ass and silicone tits defying gravity, pussy lips swollen and begging.
He pushed her onto the desk, spreading her legs wide for missionary. The wood was cool against her back, a stark contrast to the fire in her veins. Harlan positioned his big cock at her entrance, rubbing the head through her slickness, teasing until she whined. Then, with one brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep. Breanne screamed, the stretch burning deliciously, her walls clenching around his girth like a vice. “Fuck, you’re so tight… teen sex at its finest,” he groaned, the slap of skin on skin starting a rhythm that shook the desk.
Her big tits jiggled with every pound, nipples like diamonds scraping his chest as he leaned over her. Sweat slicked their bodies, the salty sheen making their slides smoother, louder—wet smacks and her high-pitched moans blending into a symphony of lust. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, driving deeper, hitting that spot that made stars explode behind her eyes. The office reeked of sex now, pungent and primal, her nails raking his back, leaving red trails.
But Breanne wanted more control. Panting, she pushed him off, her brunette teen fire igniting. “My turn,” she purred, shoving him into his leather chair. Straddling him, she gripped his big cock, sinking down in cowgirl style. The fullness was intoxicating—her big ass slapping against his thighs as she rode him hard, grinding her clit against his base. Her silicone tits bounced wildly, hypnotic orbs that he captured in his hands, thumbs flicking the nipples. “Ride that dick, you teen porn star,” he urged, the chair creaking under their frenzy.
She threw her head back, shaggy hair cascading like a wild mane, moans spilling from her lips—raw, animalistic. The friction built, her pussy fluttering, juices dripping down his balls. The air hummed with their heat, the leather sticking to her skin, his hands bruising her hips as he thrust up to meet her.
Not satisfied, Harlan flipped her around, bending her over the desk again for doggystyle. Her big ass presented like a gift, cheeks spread to reveal her puckered hole and dripping slit. He slammed in, the angle hitting new depths, his hips pistoning with feral force. Breanne braced against the desk, pushing back, the impacts sending ripples through her flesh. “Harder… fuck my teen ass like that,” she gasped, though he stayed buried in her pussy, the confusion of her words only fueling his rage-lust. Slaps echoed—his palm on her cheek, cock on cunt—mingled with her sobs of ecstasy.
Sweat poured off them, the office a sauna of sin. He pulled her hair, arching her back, exposing those big tits to swing freely. The scent of her arousal was everywhere, thick and heady, driving him wilder.
Shifting again, he laid her on her side on the couch in the corner, lifting one leg high for side fuck. This position was intimate yet savage—his big cock sliding in at an angle that rubbed her g-spot relentlessly. Breanne’s hand flew to her clit, rubbing in circles as he thrust, her body coiling tighter. “Yes, oh fuck… side fuck me deeper,” she cried, the couch springs groaning under them. His free hand mauled her silicone tits, squeezing until she mewled, the dual sensations pushing her toward the edge.
Harlan’s breaths came in harsh pants, his balls slapping her thigh with each plunge. The room spun with their chaos—scent of cum and sweat, sounds of flesh colliding, touches that burned like brands. Breanne’s young secrets were unraveling, her teen body a vessel for pure, unfiltered teen porno bliss. He leaned in, biting her neck, marking her as his, while his cock swelled inside her, promising the flood.
She clenched around him, waves crashing, but he didn’t stop—pounding through her orgasm, drawing out every shudder. Flipping her back to missionary on the floor now, carpet rough against her back, he chased his own release, her legs wrapped around him like vines. “Gonna fill this skinny teen pussy,” he snarled, the promise hanging heavy.
Breanne’s nails dug in, urging him on, her big ass grinding up, shaggy hair splayed like a halo of debauchery. The buildup was endless, tension coiling like a spring, every thrust a step closer to explosion. His big cock throbbed, her walls milking him, the office a blur of motion and moan.
Back to cowgirl, she mounted him on the desk, riding with abandon, big tits in his face for him to suckle. The sucking sounds—wet pops—joined the fray, her pace frantic, sweat flying. Then doggystyle against the window, her big ass pressed to glass, risking exposure to the night city, the cool pane a shock against her heat.
They tumbled to the floor in side fuck again, bodies entwined, his hand over her mouth to muffle screams as another climax ripped through her. Oral interlude—her on top, blowjob turning to facesitting, his tongue delving while she ground down, the taste of their mixed juices on his lips.
Missionary on the conference table, legs spread eagle, he hammered home, the wood shaking. Cowgirl reverse now, her big ass bouncing in his view, hands spreading cheeks for deeper access. Doggystyle on all fours, pulling her arms back like reins, the pull arching her perfectly.
The night blurred into a marathon of positions, each one dirtier, rawer, her shocking shaggy young secrets fully exposed in this office teen sex saga. Breanne’s body quaked, senses overloaded—smell of endless arousal, touch of relentless friction, sounds of unending pleasure. Harlan’s big cock owned her, and she craved every inch, every slap, every filthy word.