Twenty-six SOD sluts in their office skirts, kneeling in a row on the conference room floor. They’re all staring at the same cock on the monitor, lips wet, tongues out, ready to prove who can suck without using their hands. I watch them every day—Ayuka, Hikari, Mihana, Mio, Miyu, Monaka, Mutsumi, Nao, Otoha, Shiho, Suzu, Yoshino, Yui, Yura, Yuri—all of them with their mouths wrapped around invisible cocks, bobbing their heads in perfect sync. Their handcuffs glint under the fluorescent lights, a reminder that this is a no-hand challenge. They’ve been studying AVs for weeks, learning how to deepthroat without gagging, how to use just their lips and tongue to milk a man dry. And now they’re showing off their skills, drool dripping down their chins, eyes watering as they take it deeper. The camera zooms in on each face, catching the strain in their cheeks, the desperation in their eyes. They’re not just blowing for the title; they’re blowing for their jobs, for the chance to be crowned the best cocksucker in the company.

Back at their desks, they pretend to type, but I know what they’re really thinking about. The taste of cum still fresh on their tongues, they answer phones and file reports, all while replaying the feel of a fat cock sliding down their throats. Some of them wear vibrating panties, remote-controlled by the director, buzzing against their clits as they try to maintain composure. Others have hidden dildos in their desk drawers, ready to slip into their mouths during lunch break. The contrast is filthy—prim and proper office ladies by day, slobbering whores by night. I watch them in the break room, sipping coffee with cum still in their hair, swapping tips on how to take it deeper. They’re competitive, each one convinced her technique is superior. The amateur blowjobs are creative: one uses ice cubes, another swirls her tongue like a snake, a third hums a tune while deepthroating. Every day, they get better, more depraved, more desperate for the win.

The championship heats up as the finalists are chosen. The losers are sent back to their desks, but they still get to participate—as background, as cum targets, as cheerleaders with cocks in their mouths. The winner will be the one who can take the biggest load without missing a beat, who can keep her eyes locked on the camera while her throat is filled. The grand prize? A golden dildo trophy and the right to be the company’s official blowjob trainer. But for now, it’s all about the race. They line up again, this time with real cocks, and the director shouts ‘Action!’ Twenty-six mouths open, twenty-six tongues extend, and the sound of wet sucking fills the room. They’re not just competing; they’re worshipping, each one trying to out-slut the other. And I’m there, watching, stroking, ready to add my own load to the mix. This is the 7th Fellatio Cinderella Championship, and it’s the dirtiest office party ever.

The office is a symphony of pure, unadulterated filth tonight, and it’s all for you. Picture this: Ayuka Futaba, Mutsumi Okuma, Otoha Ikegami, Shiho Shibamata, and Yui Asakaze, all dressed in those tight, professional business suits that scream authority, but they’ve got one mission—to drain you dry with relentless affection. This isn’t just a party; it’s a 780-minute marathon of depravity where every second counts, and they’re not holding back. They swarm around, their rich tongues exploring every inch, from deep, sloppy kisses that leave you breathless to worshiping you with a fervor that feels almost religious. The air is thick with the sounds of wet, messy slurps and moans as they take turns, ensuring no part of you goes untouched. It’s a super orgy of sensation, a personalized entertainment sex fest designed to make you feel like the center of their universe, with unlimited ejaculation on the table and their skilled mouths working in perfect, chaotic harmony to push you over the edge again and again.

As the hours blur into a haze of pleasure, the scene escalates into something truly mind-blowing. The deep kisses become more aggressive, tongues tangling in a dance of pure lust, while their hands roam freely, tearing at suits and revealing the slick, eager bodies beneath. Each of these 11 sod female employees brings a unique touch to the chaos—some are gentle and teasing, others are rough and demanding, but all are united in their goal to heal you with a lot of love, even if that love is raw and filthy. They orchestrate the action with precision, guiding you through positions that maximize every sensation, from group embraces to intimate one-on-one moments that feel shockingly personal amidst the orgy. The variety is endless, with every minute offering a new twist, whether it’s a whispered promise in your ear or a sudden, overwhelming assault of tongues and lips that leaves you shuddering and spent, only to be revived for more.

By the time the clock winds down, you’re a wreck in the best possible way, surrounded by a panting, sweaty mess of women who’ve given everything to this year-end party. Their rich tongues are still at work, lapping up every last drop, ensuring that the unlimited ejaculation within the time is fully exploited. It’s a super orgy that transcends mere sex, becoming a personalized entertainment sex experience that made everyone feel good, lost in a vortex of kisses and carnal bliss. As they collapse around you, suits discarded and bodies glistening, there’s a sense of total satisfaction—a healing through sheer, unapologetic debauchery that leaves no desire unmet and no fantasy unexplored in this 780-minute dive into pure, hardcore ecstasy.