Starfucks in Seattle

Vanessa Moon swings through the hotel door, coffee tray in one hand, ponytail still damp from morning rain. She’ll practically narrate every sip you miss if you don’t shut her up with a kiss. Instead you let her climb onto your lap because you both know the rule: new city, new passport stamp. Shirt gone in two seconds—tits up, nipples stiff—and she rocks until the coffee almost spills. She sets the cups aside and yanks your cock free, sinks her mouth down like she’s been thirsty all damn morning. When her pussy finally swallows you, she grinds with hard little circles until she spasms and soaks your balls. She spins onto all fours, moans for mercy as you drill deeper, then whips her head around and grabs you by the hips. “Sit back,” she hisses. She drops to her knees, strokes the cum right out of you, and paints a sticky mess across her tongue. VR card stamped, house blended.