Mad Fuckers: Blowing Off Steam

Robby’s chilling at home when Charlotte storms in like she’s ready to punch drywall. She just got canned and the reason is pure office politics—some suit’s pet got the pass while she got the boot for having tits and a spine. Robby sits there, nods, and waits for the whole rant. When she finally stops to breathe he tells her any place worth working for would kill to hire her. Then he offers the shortcut cure for her rage: rough, loud sex right here in the living room, and she can run the whole show. She grins like a cat that just got the cream and the keys to the house. First she slams him back against the wall, yanks his cock out and strokes it hard enough to make his knees dip. Every angry squeeze of her fist says “take it, asshole,” and Robby’s all smiles. Next she spins, drops her thick ass on his face and grinds until his tongue’s buried deep, licking that tight little rim while her cheeks smother his cheeks. She rides the feeling, big tits swaying, ink on her skin shifting with every roll of her hips. When she’s good and worked up she flips around for a sloppy sixty-nine—his mouth on her pussy, hers deep-throating him—until the living-room couch gets a workout that ends with her fingers knuckle-deep in his ass and his tongue still chasing every drop of her. By the time they’re done, Charlotte’s stress is leaking down his chin and Robby’s grinning like a champ who just took one for the home team.