Slut Inspection Kenzie Reeves Cosplay Teen

She steps out in that cheap sailor costume—sailor hat, tits hanging out the cropped halter, micro skirt flashing white panties every move she makes. Fuckin’ ridiculous. Makes my mouth water. “Ahoy, slut.” She’d better sink to her knees fast, lips stretching around my husband like she owes him tribute. No hesitation. Not here. USS Dan Ferrari. If her throat doesn’t clench and her pussy doesn’t lock on him right, it’s straight to the deep end. One slip, one lazy thrust she doesn’t match, and the plank comes out. She drops. I watch her jaw work, spit coating his cock in loud, messy strings. Her tits swing with every bob—nipples hard against thin fabric. Dan grabs the back of her hat, controls the rhythm. Faster. Deeper. Her mascara streaks. She takes it anyway. When he bends her over, that skirt rides up her back like an invitation. White cotton ripped sideways. Pink pussy glistening. He slams in dry and full. She cries out—half whimper, half dare. He doesn’t slow. He pounds like he’s punishing bad behavior. Her breath fogs the wood, knuckles white on the rail. Heat and punishment and wet sounds slap through the cabin until he empties inside her, branding her from the inside out. Satisfied. Still captain. He leaves her leaking, still plugged by the cock she was supposed to earn.