Amber popped her rocks four times in quick succession. Wailing, she tensed her body. Johnny reached down beneath her and jammed his thumb into her throbbing slit hole. Screaming, the brunette shot off her guns again and again, until the arm of the couch was drenched with juice.

His prick assaulted her asshole with short, unhurried jabs. His palms rested on the cheeks of her ass. He felt her tensing and then relaxing. Then he heard her groaning again, and her skin grew red and warm. Amber popped once more and then relaxed on the couch.

Then he pulled out of her and waited for her to recover. Amber lay moaning and writhing on the couch. She tried to twist around and see what he was doing next, but it was too late. Johnny had already pulled apart the lips of her pussy, pushed himself forward, and rammed his cock up her greasy gash.

Amber wriggled beneath him, her legs trembling violently. Her heart was racing. Suddenly it hammered in her chest, making her explode until she finally passed out.

Johnny pulled out of her, picked her up, and laid her on her back. Then he went into the kitchen and fixed drinks for both of them. By the time be came back into the living room, Amber was stirring and frying to sit up.

"What the hell d'ya have in that thing of yours?" she asked. "A stick of dynamite?"

He laughed. For the next five minutes, they sat, drinking and smoking in silence.

Amber, finishing her drink, got up and went to the bathroom. She was in there barely two minutes before Johnny walked in, picked her up from the john, and draped her, face-down, over the edge of the tub.