Jaxx is getting pounded by the manager

Inside the manager's office, Jaxx is bent over his desk, papers scattered haphazardly beneath her. A cup of pens has spilled over, and blue ink spills across doubtlessly crucial documents. But the manager pays it no mind: his tie is flipped over his shoulder, his slacks have dropped to the floor, and his balls are slapping against the back of Jaxx's blue thighs.

Jaxx is trying her best to pay attention to the computer, where she is filling out some onboarding paperwork. "And here... uhh... uhh... yeah.... Umm, and here, it asks, it asks where I was b-b-born... b-b-but Mars i-sn't.... unnnhhh.... unnnnnhh... ohhh... an option!"

"Just put Massachussets," he says. "God, you feel so good." Inside Jaxx's cunthole, or cloaca, or whatever equivalent, self-lubricating structure she has, were little ridges and smooth patches. The spongey, wet pussy perfectly accomodated his cock, following its curvature, squeezing it, pulling it in. The manager gazes down at the back of Jaxx's head, watching her fill out dozens of inane forms and questionnaires as he pumps his cock in and out of her. He feels warmth and pleasure radiating up from his belly, tightening his throat. He moans desperately, grips her hips and releases himself into her. Jaxx doesn't react at all, other than asking if the form should be printed out and signed. Slumping into his chair, eye level with one of her three holes dripping with his cum, he says yes.