Max Load

Maxim’s leaning against the doorway in a tight little dress, ready to bolt out for the night, but she’s short on cash again. “You’re gonna help me out, yeah?” she purrs, already unzipping Brad’s pants like it’s the most natural favor in the world. His fat cock springs free, hot and twitching, and she drops straight to her knees. She sucks like she’s been clocked in—wet, sloppy, throat muscles working him while she hums around the head every time she pops off for air. Then she shoves that heavy rack up around his shaft, smothering it in soft, warm tit-flesh, squeezing and sliding till his glans peeks out between those milky globes on every stroke. Brad’s hips jerk, he grits out a curse, and he blows, pumping a thick, creamy load that ropes across her forehead, lashes her cheeks, and drips off her pouty lower lip. She just grins through the mess, satisfied grin, freshly-glazed face glowing.