That Special Stress Relief

Brad Newman walked into Kayley Gunner's parlor not sure what hit him. Her hands knew every spot worth rubbing, hitting that sweet spot between his shoulder blades that made his cock twitch. She poured that oil nice and slow, watching it drip down his crack before sliding her fingers in to work that hole until he was biting the table. But it was her mouth that sealed the deal—hungry, filthy, wrapping around him like she had a point to prove. He groaned her name when she took him deep, tongue working the underside while her hand pumped the base like she'd done it a hundred times. Before he knew it he had her bent over the table, balls slapping her ass as he pounded in, slick with her own spit. The filthy smack of skin filled the room while he grabbed handfuls of that thick ass and drove in hard, finishing with a low growl as he pumped her full and watched it drip down her thighs.