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Clad in a smart suit, a verified amateur teases himself with a naughty secret. Underneath his polished exterior, a plug fills him, stretching him, sending electric shocks of pleasure straight to his groin. He types away at his computer, his face a mask of concentration, but his body betrays him. His muscles clench, his breath hitches, and he can't help but squirm slightly in his chair, the plug a relentless, wonderful torment. He's plugged and productive, his body a secret symphony of pleasure, his mind focused on the task at hand, even as he wishes he could give in to the delicious ache within.