Toe-tally into Juelz Ventura

Karlo nailed the setup on Juelz’s new place—well, almost. Final price still needs a handshake, and she’s dead set on shaving it down. Pretty hard not to notice when she props her bare foot up on the granite counter and starts gliding it over the bulge in his jeans. One soft press, the toe curling, the heel sliding slow and sure. His voice cracks on the first number. She grins, slips two fingers under the waistband of her shorts, rubs the damp fabric, then peels it aside. Slick, swollen, glistening. She grabs him by the belt, tugging while her foot keeps working him. Pretty soon he’s pumping into her grip, into her heat, while she’s whispering every discount she wants with each wet clench around his cock. He keeps adding zeros to the discount and she keeps whispering how grateful she feels until there’s nothing left on the table but the both of them trembling against the counter.