Making The Team

We've always been jocks, especially my wife Kendra. She’s a total soccer MILF. Our boy missed the cut, so we went straight to Coach Brickzilla. He wasn’t thrilled about bumping an undersized kid, but he grew a lot more interested once we laid my wife on the table. Brick sat back while Kendra hauled his cock out—thick as her forearm, heavy, already leaking. Her eyes went wide, and she didn’t waste a second; she swallowed the head, drooling down the shaft until her lips mashed against his balls. Coach grunted, gripped her hair, and pumped her throat like a piston. When he finally bent her over the desk, Kendra’s pussy was already dripping, lips swollen and open. Brick pushed in one slow, merciless inch at a time, stretching her until her whole body shook. She braced herself and started twerking back, hairy cunt slapping wet against his groin. Every thrust knocked a moan out of her. She looked over her shoulder, eyes glassy, and told me to get ready to swallow whatever he pumped into her. Soon as Brick blew, I dropped to my knees; Kendra pulled off and fed me straight from the source, milking every hot, salty spurt down my throat. Kid’s on the varsity roster now. MVP status sealed.