The door to the room Zlata shared with the french-woman, Jessica, was not locked and opening the door gave a good view of a woman laying on her back on the bed, one hand groping and squeezing on her breast, another stroking a stiff, rigid cock in her fingers eagerly, a pair of paperballs on the floor already, next to a trashcan brought near, a box of paper handtowels resting on its side next to them.<br/><br/><strong>"Uhhn, ahh, ahhh! AHHHH!"</strong><br/><br/>Arching her back, the woman reached down to grasp a paper handtowel, grimacing and lifting it up to cover the head of her cock, hips thrusting up. Rutting, powerful thrusts, arching her back. Shoving that cock violently to her balled fist and the paper in it, squirting this spunk into the paper as she shook all over and moaned. Eyes opening again to notice Roslyn in the doorway, blinking and smiling.<br/><br/><strong>"Ooo! If I had known I had an audience, I would've asked for participation? What's your name, you naughty voyeur? I'm Jessi, but folks tend to call me Frenchie. Eh, I like some good wine and think a little bush only makes a lady more beautiful, is that wrong? Anyway."</strong><br/><br/>Sitting up, she finished wiping her cock, letting it start to soften a bit. Her eyes were brown and seeming alive, her hair dark chocolate brown, her skin nicely tanned, a single black beauty mark resting in the pathway of tears under her left eye.