Yamamoto wrinkled his nose as he crouched by the small puddle near the door.
"Strange… this water has a strange smell… I should wipe it clean…"
The moment the words left his mouth, Saki's head jerked back under the desk. My cock slipped free of her throat with a wet, filthy pop, a thick string of saliva and precum snapping between her swollen lips and the glistening head.
She froze for half a second, eyes wide with pure panic, then scrambled back up into her chair as quietly as she could. Her cheeks were burning, lips shiny and slightly puffy, the front of her torn pants still open and damp under the desk.
She clamped her thighs together hard, smoothed her expression into something serious, and immediately started shuffling the random A4 sheets in front of her as if she had never left the chair.
Yamamoto turned away from the puddle and looked at the two of us, still completely oblivious.
"I'll clean it up. You guys do your work."
