GCAVixens: Wrong House, Right Cock

Brazzers

Johnny Sins, Ashley Graham Pic(s)

The oppressive afternoon sun beat down on the manicured suburban street, baking the asphalt until it shimmered. Johnny Sins, a rugged contractor with a toolbelt slung low on his hips, double-checked the work order crumpled in his calloused hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was supposed to be fixing a leaky faucet at 124 Maple Drive, but the key under the frog statue had granted him entry here, into a home that felt strangely, opulently silent. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the smell of sawdust and sweat he was accustomed to carrying. His heavy work boots echoed on the polished marble floor as he moved toward the kitchen, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. It was there he saw her, Ashley Graham, a vision of effortless elegance leaning against the granite island, a knowing smirk playing on her full lips. She held a tall, frosted glass filled with a vibrant, amber-hued cocktail, condensation beading on its surface. “I think you’re in the wrong house, handsome,” she purred, her voice a low, melodic hum that vibrated through the quiet room. Without a word, she pushed a second, identically frosty glass across the counter towards him, the ice cubes clinking a tantalizing invitation. He accepted the drink, his rough fingers brushing against hers, and took a long, slow sip of the perfectly balanced, citrus-kissed bourbon concoction. In that single, transformative moment, the misplaced address felt less like a professional blunder and more like a serendipitous twist of fate, a delicious error he had no intention of ever correcting.