Lance wrestles, tickles, and fucks his way to the top

Lance Hart walks in undefeated. Every loser gets his load—on skin or shoved deep. Today he plans to break Lauren Philips open and leave her dripping with the chance of carrying his kid. Lauren’s been grinding Xfit like it matters. She swaggers in convinced her muscle and cardio will snap his streak. One problem: somebody on this mat is stupid-ticklish. When the giggles start they turn to snorts, then desperate gasps, and the tickling doesn’t stop till somebody can’t breathe. Pins turn into poundings. Lance traps her arms, spreads her thighs, drives in while she’s still pinned flat. Lauren fights back with a brutal head-scissors, trying to smother him between those heavy tits, but every shift costs her. He slips free, folds her again, sinks to the hilt and keeps her shoulders down for the three-count. Victory pose: Lance on his knees, Lauren gagging around every inch of him. Spit runs down her chin as he works her throat, then flips her, spreads her cheeks, and drives straight into her ass. He fucks her open until he pulls out, strokes twice, and paints her back, ass, and face with thick ropes—leaving her glistening, used, and marked as the latest entry on his win list.