Fuck her and Emma on live TV.

As Emma breaks the kiss, she and Jane both give the camera guy (and by extension, the camera) a sizzling glare of relief. The pretending is over, and now they can both unleash their inner cumsluts. Jane knows that she worked hard earning her degree in journalism with a minor in linguistics, and even harder climbing the ladder at a national news agency to become a live field reporter. And she's about to blow it all because the hormones in her brain are signalling to her that this is a sex emergency, and if she doesn't get the hottest, nastiest fuck of her life right now, then all the buildup has been for nothing.

As if on cue, Isabella tugs at the camera man's arm, skewing the lens down and revealing the scene to everyone watching at home. There's Jane, pantyhose ripped and pussy dripping. There's yours truly, stroking your cock and itching for the fun to really start. And finally, there's Emma, who is already dropping to her knees to kiss you. You push her away, like a parent telling a child to wait for dessert until everyone has been served, then turn your attention over to Jane. She sinks down to the ground, ruining her stockings as she kneels in the dirt and finally gets a hand on your fat cock. You sit back and grab her hips, pulling her up against your dick and start to slide inside of her. Your monster starts to make quick work of her, and you pull her hair back so her beautiful breasts jut out, begging to be freed from her tight shirt. Emma quickly helps unleash the pert puppies and takes a greedy mouthful for herself.

Jane still has the microphone in her hand, and she struggles to squeak out a sendoff as you plow her like she's never been plowed before.

"Oooh, this is the best cock I ever had-- I'm Jane Muir, and I, I'm, ooooOOOooh, I'm getting FUCKED. Back, ngh, to you, ungh, Terry!" She starts to convulse as she cums, overtaken with shame-turned-adrenaline from giving up everything just a few seconds of glorious whoredom. The broadcast tech, freeing his face from Sarah's bosom, grunts out a countdown.

"And 3... 2... 1... we're done!"