What All The Fuss Is About

Jesse Pony kicks the door open like she owns it. Will barely gets a hello out before she’s shoving past him and dropping her coat. That’s when he sees the black lace hugging her tits like a second skin. She didn’t come to bitch about the other girls; she came to find out why they keep texting her at two in the morning. She pushes him onto the couch, climbs on, and rides his face until her thighs shake. Every sloppy grind leaves his chin shiny. When she finally sits back, she’s already soaked. Will flips her, buries his tongue deep, and fingers that tight pussy until her voice cracks. Blonde hair sticking to her face, big tits bouncing every time she bucks against his mouth. She wants his cock now. Spins around, plants both hands on his chest, and sinks down in one slick move. The cowgirl ride is filthy—loud, fast, mean—her ass slapping his thighs while she tells him he better last. He does, just barely. When he finally fills her, she grins like she’s won. Will’s done. Brain wiped. The only name looping in his head is hers.