You can't get a word in edge-wise.

At the end of the hallway, a pair of closed double doors muffle the sounds of the pounding hammers.

"The contractor should be inside. They're painting the dining room," Dana informs you as she flings the doors open.

A thought flashes through your head: Why do they need hammers to paint? But the doors fly open, and all becomes clear.

A long table covered with a drop-cloth stretches down the length of the hall, away from the doors. But what really grabs your attention is the tawny-skinned brunette bent face down over the end of the table closest to you.

The girl is stark naked, her natural breasts mashed into exaggerated round pillows against the table. Her toned and tanned arms are outstretched and gripping the corners. And perhaps most notably, she is holding on for her life as a burly guy rams into her from behind. Her face is twisted into a mask of ecstasy: her eyes clenched shut, her mouth frozen in a red-rimmed "O". As she takes each animalistic thrust, she emits a throaty moan that is masked by the hammering of the table legs into the hardwood floor.

Who knows how long the guy has been at it, but he doesn't last much longer. Through gritted teeth, he grunts out his climax, tightening his grip on the brunette's perfect bubble-butt until he finishes his spasmodic pumping.

"Who's next?" he asks, pulling out of her dripping wet snatch.

You notice now that there in the hall with them are about a half dozen guys wearing paint-splotched clothes. Unsurprisingly, the wanton sexual exhibition has distracted them from their painting duties. They've been standing around, enrapt but mute, watching the pornographic scene from a respectful distance.

The guy casually flips the girl over like a rotisserie chicken, eliciting an excited squeal from her. She lies passively on her back, legs spread and hanging over the edge. You can clearly see the pearlescent white ooze push its way back out of her swollen pussy hole, trickle down her ass crack, and pool onto the drop cloth. The girl smiles coyly and surveys the room with lustful anticipation.

"C'mon, she's asking for it!" the burly guy exhorts in disgust. You hear someone mumble unenthusiastically about "sloppy seconds".