She flipped on the system, and Vance immediately turned on to the sensual melody of a saxophone writhing through his brain. Sable took him in her arms, leading him in an improvised slow dance in which she caressed his c**k with nearly every inch of her torso, but mostly her enticing rump, enhanced in shiny latex and polish. Rubbing his d**k systematically with her buttocks, she lured him into a rhythm, leading him on with the hope that she’d let him dry-hump her latex-protected ass. When Vance began to build momentum with his strokes, however, she whirled around and laughed in his face.
Despite the gag and loud music, Vance conveyed through his eyes and body language that Sable was the filthiest b***h in the world and he yearned to screw her until she was too sore to walk.
Unfortunately,
