Welcoming Committee

Shay Sights swings by as the one-woman welcome wagon, all tits and teeth, ready to teach eighteen-year-old Nick Strokes what "neighborly" really means. She drops to her knees the second he opens the door, yanks his sweats down and stuffs both his cock and heavy balls straight into her hungry mouth. No teasing—just a sloppy, wet welcome. She sucks like she’s emptying every drop of tension he’s carried since the move: tongue swirling under the head, throat swallowing down to the root, spit dripping off her chin. When his knees buckle she just laughs, strokes what her mouth can’t take, and hums around him until he lets go. Thick ropes paint her tongue, her lips, her hand. She swallows the first blast, keeps milking him for the rest until those balls look punched-out and shiny with her spit. Job done, she stands, wipes her mouth on her wrist and calls it a successful meet-and-greet. Nick’s move just got way more interesting.