Vanessa Vega

Yo, check this wild ride: Joel stumbles home pissed off and heartbroken after his mom's funeral, where his wife ditched him like yesterday's trash. The family's still mourning, and she bails? Now he's hearing her giggly ass walk in with some massive dude. Joel flips, yelling why the hell she'd ghost him during his darkest week, right in front of everyone. But Vanessa? She spits venom about his mom and grins, saying she dragged home this hung stud—Jax Slayher—to rail her brains out. Right there, in their living room, with Joel watching like a chump. He can't lift a finger, just bawls his eyes out like the pathetic cuck he is. Vanessa loves grinding his gears, yanking out Jax's throbbing black beast and slurping it down like a pro. Damn, she squirts buckets harder when Joel's sniveling—his sobs are the slick that juices her tight slit. Jax slams that dripping snatch and puckered pink rosebud everywhere, cockhead teasing Joel's lips from inches away. What twisted bar pickup is this? Why Joel? Some karmic curse? Who cares—poor sap's day as a whipped hubby just tanked hard.