Kendra James Sophistication

Kendra James walks into the room like money on two legs. Tall, red hair, legs for days. We grab her, slam her down, rip the dress off her. Fingers jam inside her slick cunt and she bucks like a whore who has been waiting for it. The wooden horse waits. We set her on it, yank the blocks free, and her whole weight slams onto her swollen lips. She gasps. She stays on it. Next we spread her on a rail, wrists and ankles strapped wide, ball gag jammed in her mouth. The machine drives into her, relentless. She shakes, she creams, and the motor gives out. We keep going. Finger, hand, cock—whatever fits. She keeps coming, gagged and dripping, until the night is done.