
Alysia Kent’s stuck in English class when Santa shows up waving a red-gloved hand. He waves her over, asks the million-dollar question—what does the supermodel want under the tree? She doesn’t hesitate: a sex toy, right now. Santa grins and whisks her into his workshop, where the snow’s replaced by heat. She slips out of her clothes, spreads out, and rubs her clit in slow circles. Santa drops between her thighs, tongue working overtime on her wet pussy. He spins her around, grips those perfect cheeks, and slams into her doggy-style, every thrust making her booty ripple. She turns, sinks to her knees, and wraps her lips around his cock, then slides it between her soft tits for a few slick strokes. Santa finally groans, pushes deep, and pumps her full of thick, warm cum.
Alysia Kent’s stuck in English class when Santa shows up waving a red-gloved hand. He waves her over, asks the million-dollar question—what does the supermodel want under the tree? She doesn’t hesitate: a sex toy, right now. Santa grins and whisks her into his workshop, where the snow’s replaced by heat. She slips out of her clothes, spreads out, and rubs her clit in slow circles. Santa drops between her thighs, tongue working overtime on her wet pussy. He spins her around, grips those perfect cheeks, and slams into her doggy-style, every thrust making her booty ripple. She turns, sinks to her knees, and wraps her lips around his cock, then slides it between her soft tits for a few slick strokes. Santa finally groans, pushes deep, and pumps her full of thick, warm cum.