The Horny Elf On The Shelf

Christmas Day. Richelle starts hunting for that damn elf. She lifts the shelf and finds Jimmy lying there, cock standing stiff like it paid rent. Her fingers wrap around it. She strokes slow, then harder. Jimmy wakes up hungry. They stumble toward the couch, her hand never leaving him. She drops to her knees, lips stretch around his shaft, throat working until spit runs down her chin. He drags her onto his face. Tongues and moans fill the air. She swings around, climbs on, sinks down on him in one slick drop. Tits bounce with every thrust. She leans forward, lets him slide between her oily breasts, tongue flicking the head each time it pokes free. Next she props her feet on his lap, arches her toes around the shaft, stroking him tight, soles slick with lube. They switch again—she sucks him while he buries his face between her legs, both of them gasping, shaking. Then the real fucking starts. Missionary, legs spread wide. Doggy, her cheek pressed to the cushion. Reverse cowgirl, ass slapping skin. Jimmy grips, grunts, loses it. Thick ropes paint her cheeks and lips. Later, hot water steams the tile. Richelle soaps his chest. Jimmy runs his hands down her back. Neither pretends they’re finished yet.