Emerald is killing a work break on her couch when the doorbell rings. No one's there—just a huge bouquet of deep-red roses with a note from Rick. She reads it, bites her lip, and feels her pussy throb. Later, Rick shows up at her door with that cocky smirk. She yanks him inside, tongues tangling, hands grabbing. She's only got an hour before her next call but promises to repay him for the flowers in the sloppiest way possible. She drops to her knees in the hallway, frees his thick, hard cock, and deep-throats him until spit drips down her chin. Clothes fly in the bedroom. She rides him reverse-cowgirl, her soaked pussy squelching with every bounce, then grinds forward-facing until she cums hard. On all fours, she demands he fuck her like he owns her. He pounds her from behind, then flips her into missionary, driving deep and slow. When he's close, she kneels on the floor, tilts her cum-hungry face up, tongue out. He strokes himself over her and paints her cheeks, nose, and chin with thick ropes of cum. She swallows what lands on her tongue, smears the rest, and sucks her fingers clean. She's a satisfied, cum-glazed mess with a meeting to get to.