
Vanna Bardot drops her books and sinks into the couch, shoulders tight from cramming. She needs relief, and she knows exactly who to call. Thomas Stone arrives and the air shifts. Her petite frame leans into him, small natural tits pressing against his chest as their mouths meet. He peels her clothes off, piece by piece, revealing smooth skin and firm little breasts that fit perfectly in his hands. She drops to her knees, lips wrapping around his cock, sucking with slow, hungry strokes. Her brown hair falls forward, brushing his thighs, and she works him deeper until her throat relaxes and her eyes water. He holds her head, guiding the rhythm, then pulls her up and bends her over the cushions. She gasps when he slides inside, taking every thrust with a soft, grateful moan.
Vanna Bardot drops her books and sinks into the couch, shoulders tight from cramming. She needs relief, and she knows exactly who to call. Thomas Stone arrives and the air shifts. Her petite frame leans into him, small natural tits pressing against his chest as their mouths meet. He peels her clothes off, piece by piece, revealing smooth skin and firm little breasts that fit perfectly in his hands. She drops to her knees, lips wrapping around his cock, sucking with slow, hungry strokes. Her brown hair falls forward, brushing his thighs, and she works him deeper until her throat relaxes and her eyes water. He holds her head, guiding the rhythm, then pulls her up and bends her over the cushions. She gasps when he slides inside, taking every thrust with a soft, grateful moan.