Ass-King For Trouble

Alex Jones lounges in the massage parlor, itching for his next client, when Betty Foxxx struts in with a grin that screams trouble. His gaze locks straight onto that killer bubble butt of hers—goddamn, it's popping out like a neon sign in those skin-tight clothes. He's supposed to play it cool, keep it pro, but let's face it, Alex is all about that ass. He steps up to greet her, and bam—Betty drops the bomb: she wants a bolster massage, 'cause her butt's been aching like hell, and nothing else cuts it. Alex's mind races, temptation hitting him like a freight train, but he gulps it down, nods like a champ, and leads her to the room. Betty peels off her clothes and flops over the bolster, that perfect ass on full display. Alex starts kneading her body, fighting to stay focused, but his hands? They keep sliding back to those cheeks, like magnets on steroids. Every moan and sigh from her lips cranks his lust to eleven, and before he knows it, he's slipping a finger right into her tight butthole without a second thought. He's horrified, freezing up, but Betty? She's lit up, loving every second of his sneaky touch, urging him on with a husky 'don't stop.' Jackpot. Alex tosses caution out the window and goes for broke. He fingers her deep, rims her with hungry laps, then charges into the grand finale—pounding that ass with eager, no-holds-barred thrusts.