They somehow restrain themselves.

Wanda lets her lustful **** on me abate for a scarce moment when I moan out a quivering plea, “Please… ”

But a moment is all I need to reverse this situation. Catching her ankle with my foot in the second she stops grinding me, I trip her over and pin the sexy fashionista underneath me; pressing her shoulders into the wall at a deep, deep angle. She gasps as my cock throbs against her bare, juicy thighs, and bites her blues lips to try to quiet some loud moans once my hand finds her pussy.

“Listen, I’ll fuck you like you won’t believe. But I need my **** first…” I huff, stroking my fingers against her quivering, wet folds, “Not because I don’t want to ravage you like an animal here and now, but because I only have one shot at making Ruby pay.”

I grab her head from behind and pull her into my lips for a deep, passionate kiss. Her tongue dances further into my mouth, as her hand gets purchase on my penis again. Letting her slide to the floor when I pull back from our heart-pounding embrace, I watch my cock throb, and rush to grab my clothing.

Specifically flexing my ass for her before I pull on my pants, I get myself redressed. Penis brushing the fabric discomfortingly and tenting a little too much due to my erection, I stuff it around until it looks more like an odd fold than like I’m trying to smuggle a Persian cucumber. The bottomless woman takes her eyes off my groin when I extend a hand to help her up, then helps me with my shirt as we each barely restrain from tackling the other into the ground and fucking them senseless.

Still walking on eggshells to prevent the orgasm I can feel dying to squirt from balls, Wanda and I shuffle out of the closet; doing our best to look composed, and not like we just almost fucked. My fully clothed state disappoints the crew beyond reason, and I hear most of the cruel ladies groan or jeer when they look at my crotch and find blue jeans instead of white cock.

I can’t help but beam, grateful to be advantaged in my own clothing; letting that smile turn flirtatious, I give a quiet apology to Wanda before hunting down my photographer—and perverted arch nemesis—Ruby Forsythia Byrne.

I see that Tess and Fareehah have vanished from the main studio, which means that when I corner our short, redheaded tormentor, then it’s time for phase three.