Crack Me Up

Former pro ballplayer walks into his busty chiropractor's office sore as hell and walks out loaded in a whole new way. One adjustment turns into her greedy hands all over his chest, down his abs, straight to that half-hard throb under his shorts. She locks the door, strips fast enough her scrubs hit the floor with a soft fuck-yes rustle, and mounts him on the table like she's been measuring him for weeks. Tits bouncing each ride, her nails digging meat, they skip the small talk and go straight to skin-slapping, wet-drenched filthy. She whispers just how many coffee-room fantasies had his name dripping off her tongue, then clamps down and milks the bonus out in one rough, shaking encore. Boom—back feels brand new.