Work Load

Capri's stuck grinding a work call on a Saturday. Screw that. You drop down and start rubbing her feet, working that tension straight out of her soles, and that switches gears real fast. She keeps that phone voice steady for ten more seconds, then flashes that devil grin and goes from getting the rub to gripping you between both feet. Her pussy's right there in your face— she's already two fingers deep, thighs twitching while her feet slide slick up and down your shaft like she owns it. As soon as her call ends she kicks the chair back, hits her knees, and swallows you without asking. Tongue flat, throat greedy, nothing tentative about the way she works you.