Gold Digger Sucking Me Dry

Codey eyes Vanessa across the marble kitchen like she just jacked his inheritance. Dad’s new wife, busty, glued-on smile, batting lashes while she eyes the safe’s combo behind the wine rack. He cuts to the chase. “You’ll be gone the second the prenup smell fades.” She shrugs one shoulder so the silk robe slips and her tits nearly fall out. Doesn’t deny a damn thing. Steps forward, clicks the lock on the door, then drops to her knees like this conversation is over. Tiny shorts ride up her ass; she never fixed the zipper. One hot, painted palm presses his hard-on flat against his zipper. She tugs it down with a single pop, knuckles brushing skin, and fishes his cock straight into warm, open air. No teasing. Her tongue drags fat and slow from balls to tip, tasting every ridge, then she slides the whole length past those glossy lips until her throat gives a tiny, wet hug. Spit runs in lines down her chin while she chokes deeper, eyes watering, mascara smudging fast. One hand cups the spit-coated mess under his sac; the other works the base in sloppy circles that froth with every pump. Every time he tries to protest she hollows her cheeks, hums, and swallows another inch until his voice dies in a grunt. He’s close; she feels the throb behind her tongue and pops off just in time, shoves both tits together and presses his slick cock right between them. Two quick strokes and ropes of cum stripe her cleavage, drip off the swell, pool in the hollow of her throat. Vanessa licks what she can reach, tilts her chin, and smiles around a mouthful, one glossy finger tracing her collarbone like she’s sealing the deal.