Kristy’s Hands-On Boob Service
Back in the room at Hooter Hotel in Europe, Mr. Johnson, talent scout for SCORE, receives the knock, correction, mambos, at the door that he has been waiting for. Earlier, Johnson had called the British front desk concierge Mandy Pearl for the masseuse to come up. This chab needed some stress busting relief after the non-stop parade of girls entering his room and rolling around his sofa exposed and masturbating to orgasm, leaving him with a swollen nutbag. The massage DAVID finally arrives and he’s delighted to see her, ogling her from head to toe. Kristy Klenot is the resident masseuse and that babe is a corker. Short, buxom and marvelous, Kristy has a fashionable, hot body and speaks in accented English with an sexual flavor. Why do women with European accents sound so hot? Kristy wastes no time giving Johnson an eyeful, removing her robe, removing her undergarment, panties and heels, and climbing onto the sofa absolutely exposed. Kristy warms up her hands by caressing her clit and fun bags. This way, Johnson won’t be chilled by cold hands when that babe starts her rub-down. She sits at the edge of the daybed and goes right to the package, rubbing, squeezing, jerking and wiping his penis on her mounds. Always ready to lend a hand, Kristy has a fine, firm grip on things. This is one of the superlatively priceless massages Johnson ever had. They move onto the ottoman and Kristy continues her jock rub-down. That babe acquires into the finest tit-fuck position, on her back, so Johnson can slip back and forth betwixt her hawt breast valley. Kristy tells him that babe wishes his hawt cum and that that stud should cum on her body. Hearing that, staring into her wide eyes, Johnson pops his testicles all over her zeppelins and on some of her face. Fine things cum in tiny packages and her name is Kristy Klenot. Later on that day, Johnson prepares to inspect. That woman chaser returns his key to front desk but concierge Mandy makes him wait so this babe can give him a last undressed boobie unveil until this petticoat chaser returns one day to Hooter Hotel. Hooter Hotel. Where no one dresses like a large mouse and there are no thrill rides. But it has got the hottest, slinkiest bra-busting workers west of Budapest.
