Money Talks, She Screams

In a grimy motel room, the teen whore waits, her heart pounding with anticipation. The john arrives, his wallet thick with bills, and she goes to work, her fingers tracing the outline of his cock through his jeans. She unzips him, her tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum beading at the tip. He's hard, ready, and she's eager, her mouth enveloping him, her throat relaxing to take him deep. The money changes hands, and she's on her back, her legs spread wide, her cunt hungry for his cock.

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