The Plumber

Bree Daniels waits by the sink. The plumber, Jessy Jones, already has tools on the floor and his head under the cabinet. He mutters about husbands letting strangers into their homes. Bree steps closer, her robe loose, and tells him she can do some damage too. She drops to her knees, frees his cock and takes him deep. No teasing. She sucks hard, her lips tight, her hand working what her mouth can't reach. He leans back against the counter, breathing heavier, one hand in her hair. When she stands, he lifts her onto the edge of the sink. She wraps her legs around him and takes him in one thrust. The motion turns to a steady ride, her hips rolling, breasts bouncing. She leans in, lips brushing his ear, whispering how much she likes the risk. He grips her waist, thrusts up to meet her. The pace breaks only when he pulls out and finishes across her stomach. Cum streaks her skin while the disposal stays dead quiet under the sink. Bree smiles, satisfied and messy, knowing the husband will never know who fixed more than the pipes.