Barefoot bar

Loni Evans makes ordering iced tea sound like foreplay. Barry figures she's just thirsty. Five minutes later she's got both feet wrapped around his cock like she's taking measurements. She strokes slow, then faster, toes flexing, nails dragging just enough to make his hips twitch. The foot job's barely over and she's already climbing on, no idle chat, just the sound of skin and that cock sliding into her like it's been waiting all afternoon. Two sentences later she's riding him hard enough to knock the coffee table over. Classic Loni.