When Porn Stars Attack #02, Scene #03

POV. Blonde mistress Tinslee Reagan towers over you, heels planted, ass inches from your face, long hair spilling down her back. "Kiss it, boy. Lick every inch like it owns you." Across the room she switches targets. Jack Vegas sits locked in a cage, wallet already gone. She drags him out, shoves him against the table, wraps her leather belt around his throat. One gloved hand works his cock until it stiffens against his will. "Give me your wife’s card," she hisses, paddle smacking his swollen dick. She spreads wide, shoves him face-first between her thighs, juices smearing his tongue. She rocks back, smothering him with ass, grinding until he gasps for air. Her toes push into his mouth next, curling, fucking his throat while she laughs. Spit hits his tongue; her palm cracks across his cheek. Then the phone comes out. "Call her. Fuck me while you talk." She sinks onto him, warm cunt squeezing, and snaps the proof—his wedding ring blurred in the shot. When he finally spills, she scoops the mess off her skin and presses two fingers to his lips. "Swallow your sin, husband." The belt tightens. The phone call ends. Silence owns the room.