Singing Telegram

Kenzie Taylor's no Pavarotti, so when she lands a gig singing telegram for Eric Masterson, she figures why not swap the tunes for a steamy lap dance? Eric's hooked right away—this babe's a knockout, grinding like she owns the place. She peels off her clothes, plants that perfect ass right on his crotch, teasing him through his pants. When she calls it quits, he's dying for seconds. He suggests a massage; she counters she's broke. 'On the house,' he grins, and she's all in with a sly wink. They chat easy as he kneads her shoulders, building that rhythm. His hands slide down to her ass, and she teases, 'What're you up to?' He plays it cool: 'Just loosening those tight glutes.' She laughs it off—'Everyone gets the treatment, huh? Kidding—dig in deep.' He works those cheeks like dough, her moans spilling out, loving every free second. She flips over, bold as brass: 'These tits need some love too.' He dives in, massaging her massive rack, thumbs circling her nipples. Boom—she grabs his hand, plants it on her slick pussy. 'You gonna fuck me or what?' He yanks out his cock; she dives down, sucking it sloppy and fierce, getting him rock-hard in record time. No more waiting—she swings a leg over, sinks down reverse cowgirl, bouncing like a pro. He thrusts up from below, pounding her as she rides wild. Finally, he pulls out and blasts his load all over those huge, heaving tits.