Bill ends his dry spell with Lynn's pussy.

Lynn leaned against the railings of the stairwell, staring at her own feet and nearly doubled over. Why was it so hard to catch her breath? There was no way that any of this was really happening, she had to be imagining it. Or maybe there was something going wrong with her suit, like Joy had really been fucking with her after all. But that sensation, no, no, that had to be her imagination. No chance that it was real, not one bit!

"Lynn, what the fuck is going on?" Joy said. She was already far past her willingness to deal with Lynn's bullshit for the day, but now she was acting like she was having a heart attack or something. Lynn was a bitch, but she wasn't much of an eccentric. This was pretty out of character for her.

While the cosplayers were talking, Bill had already undone his belt and dropped his pants around his knees, including his boxers. He had always had trouble keeping it hard with his bitch of an ex wife, but now he was like a rock. He was going to show these stuck-up bitches who was boss and he was going to relieve some serious stress while he did.

Lynn finally stood up straight. Whatever it was, it had stopped. "Okay," she said. "I'm okay. Come on, let's go." That didn't do much to calm Joy down, but at least they would be moving again.

Just as she started moving again, Lynn's eyes boggled. "Oh my God," she groaned.

"Lynn?"

There was no mistaking it. Lynn's knees knocked, her mouth fell open. Her hips shook, and she didn't know how it was possible. There was someone inside her, someone's hard cock fucking her, hard, like she was some cheap hussy. "Oh fuck," she gasped. "Fuck." She shut her eyes tight, taking deep breaths. Fuck, why did it feel so good?

"Lynn!" Joy snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Like it was an instinct, Lynn fell to her knees, and then onto all fours, her hands on the cold faux-stone floors of the stairwell. "Ohhh," she groaned. "Fuck, that's so good!"