The flight touched down at the Airport under a crisp January sky, Tokyo’s skyline gleaming in the distance like a promise of adventure—and for Stiles, something far more sinful. The team disembarked business class, Scott yawning from his nap, oblivious to the blowjob his wife had given their CEO just aisles away. Stiles walked with a subtle sway, her micro skirt riding up her thighs, pussy still slick from the thrill, cum lingering in her belly like a dirty secret.

Derek led the group through customs, his tall frame cutting through the crowd, eyes flicking back to Stiles with that predatory gleam. The other colleagues—Mark, Jackson, Noah, Peter—chattered excitedly, stealing glances at her cleavage, whispering about the calendar shots they’d jerked off to.