“Oh, fuck! You know what I like,” Sage Silver cooed in delight. One hand cupped her full breast as another slid down her panties. She clenched her large brown eyes tight and focused on the sensation. “Oh, Lucy!” She squealed in whispered delight. “Oh… fuck. Lucy, yes!” The finger in her cunt plunged deeper and she met it with enthusiastic grinding. The hand on her breast squeezed tighter as a thumb circled her pert nipple...

“Fuck, please! I need it!” Sage had been dripping wet. Her cheeks flushed and her damp hair hung down over her face. She leaned her forehead against the tile and used both hands to coerce something more than the pittance of an orgasm that had disappointingly come and gone with little fanfare. “No, no, no… please… Don’t be done already! Don’t… fuck!” She tried for another minute using her fingers and the small bullet vibra...

‘Sage’ smiled proudly as Maxwell shot his sixth load of the evening across her back. She felt the hot mess all the way up to the back of her neck, an impressive distance at this juncture. Her fingers danced about her clit, prolonging her satisfaction. He dropped to his elbows and rested his body, pressed her against the desk. Red panted, his shaky breath on the back of her neck. “God, I never cum like that with my wife.”...

Sage descended the stairs with her luggage loosely packed with everything she needed for the night. She wore her most comfortable set of sweatpants with her softest pink sweater. “Going somewhere?” Maxwell was making sandwiches in the kitchen with a sour look on his face. Sage was finally free to laugh. And laugh she did. “Ha ha ha! Oh my god, you look like such a prick in that. Who the fuck even owns a turtleneck sweater...