Melissa Stratton kicks the door shut with one bare heel. Hair still wet from the shower, robe hanging open, she points at Vince Karter already lounging on her bed like he owns the mortgage. "Clothes off. We’re not role-playing today—I want the real deal." Vince smirks, peels out of his shirt, and she’s already straddling his lap before the zipper’s down. Her tits swing heavy; he catches one in each hand and squeezes until she hisses. She sinks onto his cock without preamble, wet and sudden, a warm shock that makes them both swear. They move fast—no ceremony, no warm-up—skin slapping, the headboard knocking the wall in a steady two-four beat. Melissa grabs the rail for leverage, riding like she’s trying to put dents in the mattress. Vince plants his heels, bucks up, driving deeper every time she drops. Sweat beads at the small of her back. She leans in, bites his shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark, then laughs into his neck when he growls. He flips her onto all fours, grabs her hips, and pounds her until the bed frame screeches. Melissa’s voice drops an octave, every curse word landing like applause. When she comes she clamps around him so tight he follows two thrusts later, spilling deep while the old radiator hisses in the corner like it’s rooting for overtime.
Melissa Stratton kicks the door shut with one bare heel. Hair still wet from the shower, robe hanging open, she points at Vince Karter already lounging on her bed like he owns the mortgage. "Clothes off. We’re not role-playing today—I want the real deal." Vince smirks, peels out of his shirt, and she’s already straddling his lap before the zipper’s down. Her tits swing heavy; he catches one in each hand and squeezes until she hisses. She sinks onto his cock without preamble, wet and sudden, a warm shock that makes them both swear. They move fast—no ceremony, no warm-up—skin slapping, the headboard knocking the wall in a steady two-four beat. Melissa grabs the rail for leverage, riding like she’s trying to put dents in the mattress. Vince plants his heels, bucks up, driving deeper every time she drops. Sweat beads at the small of her back. She leans in, bites his shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark, then laughs into his neck when he growls. He flips her onto all fours, grabs her hips, and pounds her until the bed frame screeches. Melissa’s voice drops an octave, every curse word landing like applause. When she comes she clamps around him so tight he follows two thrusts later, spilling deep while the old radiator hisses in the corner like it’s rooting for overtime.