The flesh triangle

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"Come on," the redhead said urgently, "one more time, Mike – please, please?"

Mike casually lit a cigarette as he lay naked in bed beside her hot, pleading body. He glanced at his watch in the glow of the match. Ten to two in the morning.

In less than thirty minutes, the hottest piece of ass he'd ever had in his life would walk though his bedroom door. And before she even said hello or unbuttoned her blouse she'd be going down on his huge cock with fierce hot lips and wild moans.

The redhead was whimpering as she stroked his stiffening rod in her warm fist, rubbing her lust tits passionately to his chest. She was thirty, divorced, and frantically eager to suck and fuck, as if she was running out of time.

"Can't, baby," he told her tersely. "My wife will be walking through that door in a little while. I'd strongly suggest you get your hot beautiful ass moving, unless you feel up to ten rounds of bloody infighting."

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