Two women in their fifties, one in a floral dress hiked up, the other in a tight blouse unbuttoned to her navel. The kneeling one swallows cock like she’s done it a thousand times, lips stretched wide, throat fluttering. Her partner’s hips jerk, fingers tangled in silver-streaked hair. The camera catches every gag, every wet gulp, the way her mascara smudges when she pulls back just enough to breathe before diving back down. They switch positions without breaking rhythm — now she’s bent over the break room table, ass in the air, while the other woman pounds into her from behind, the table legs scraping against the linoleum with every thrust.