Backstage of El mariachi

James knows his way around girls. A few chords on the guitar and he’s already got Cipriana’s mind spinning. The music makes her grin, and soon her bare feet slide up his thigh. She rubs him through his jeans, slow and steady, until he is hard and aching. When she frees him, both soles press together and work up and down his shaft with firm pressure. Her toes curl over the head, milking him in tight little strokes. He grips her ankles, guiding her feet faster, feeling every slick glide and squeeze. Cipriana watches him with a sly smile, red hair falling over her full tits as she speeds up, eager to pull every drop from him right there backstage.