Tory Lane For My Birthday

Alec pops open the door on his birthday and holy fuck—Tory Lane's stacked chest fills the frame, nipples tight like she's been waiting for this all damn day. She doesn't say a word, just drops, knees slapping hardwood, and swallows his cock in one greedy gulp that makes his hips jerk forward. Spit drips off her chin while she works him, tongue flattened, eyes up, no mercy. One sharp yank and she's bent over the couch, juicy cunt taking every inch until her ass cheeks clap and the room smells like sex. When he finally unloads she stays right where she is, letting thick ropes paint her tits, belly, and that filthy little smile. Locker-room level treat for the birthday boy.