Savanna Is the Masseuse - Part 2

She bent over the table, thong peeled down, taking dick like she trained for it. Big guy grabs her hips and starts slamming, balls smacking skin every thrust. She moans loud while the next dude lines up, already hard and grinning. Her boyfriend watches from the couch, counting cash from the last hand-off, zero fucks given about his girl getting passed around. They trade positions quick—no romance, just straight pipe and backshots—making the table creak under the weight. She grips the edge tighter every time someone bottoms out and growls 'good girl' in her ear before unloading.