Vanessa Vega

Joel storms through the door, his face red and wild, hunting for his wife after she ditched him at his mom's funeral. He feels the sting deep. Then her stupid-laugh voice fills the hallway and in she strolls with this huge stranger dangling off her arm. Joel snaps, yelling, 'Where the fuck were you?' before she tells him straight: his mother was a bitch and today Joel's getting front-row seats to her taking the big man's load. While he stands there choking on hurt, she drops to her knees, yanks out the stranger's heavy black dick, and starts slurping it loud and wet right next to him. Every wet slurp she throws out, every moan, it hits him like a joke he can't escape. His tears splash down and drip over her slit, sliding in like they grease the whole scene. Soon she's bent over the couch, tits shaking, hole and ass winking as that fat cock punches in and out, bending her every which way. Joel's nose sits inches from slick skin; he smells sweat, spit, pussy, everything at once. She grinds her face into the cushions, squeals, then sprays a thick, messy squirt around the pounding rod, the couch spotting and dripping. The stranger pulls free at the last second and paints her cheeks, streaks thick and white, while her husband gapes, miserable, soaked. He knows he won't stop the show next time either.