Aubrey Black

Aubrey Black's fed up with her deadbeat hubby lounging on the couch, glued to the TV, dodging any real work. She spins a tale about crunching numbers with her real estate buddy Prince Yahshua and begs the slob to clear out. He grunts no. She suggests he fetch grub—nada. She blasts him for wrecking her ride while she foots every damn bill. Time to school the loser: she invites Prince over for the real deal, spilling she wants to rub it in hubby's face. Ignore the wimp, she purrs, and skip the spreadsheets—hands-on my curves instead. Prince eyes the bum, grins wickedly, and dives in. 'Park it and shut up,' she snaps at hubby, as her stud crushes every bit of her. He whines, but she smothers his gripes. 'Pound every tight hole, and crank the filth to max!' she demands. Prince chuckles, 'For a pal like you? Hell yeah,' while hubby's jaw drops. They go wild with ATM and ATP action, swapping that nasty load everywhere. After Prince blasts his pop shot, Aubrey smirks at the shell-shocked spouse: 'We're not square yet, lazybones—grab a gig or keep front-row to me railing my hot partner!'