Action Sports Sex #7 - Part 2

Sal rolled up to the shop with his girl on his arm, flashed a grin at the crew, then stepped outside to take a call from his mom. Soon as the bay door shut, the boys didn’t miss a beat. Lisa had clear twenty minutes and no small appetite. She popped that top, let those big soft tits spill out—nipples already hard—and dropped straight to her knees. Three quick minutes and she had Matt’s cock down her throat, throat bulging, spit running to her chin while Corey crouched behind her, worked her jeans off her ass and sank his fingers into her dripping pussy. She moaned around Matt’s dick, eyes half-shut, clearly loving the stretch. When Corey finally shoved his thick shaft inside her, she squealed, slurping wet and sloppy. They took turns flipping her, lifting, pinning—fifteen fast minutes of her getting fucked on the creaky stool, bent over the dented toolbox, fucked standing with the sway of her weight smashing her big breasts together. She came twice: first sitting on John’s lap, riding him hard, shouting up at the ceiling; the second kneeling between Grady and Wes while Grady hammered her mouth open and Wes hit deep doggie, slapping her slick ass with each thrust. Right on minute nineteen, all of them finished: three loads sprayed across her grinning face and tits in fat glops, one leaking out of her swollen cunt while the men laughed—Lisa smearing the mess like late-night war paint, catching her breath right before Sal’s call ended and he strolled back inside smiling, clueless.