Peeking through the half-open door of her living room, you see her hairy thighs wrapped around that stupid ottoman. No panties. Just thick lips glistening as she rides down slow, deliberate strokes. She pretends not to notice when your shadow falls over hers—pretends like this isn’t exactly what she wanted all along. The way her tits jiggle against his chest when he flips her onto all fours over the edge is exactly how it should be done: rough hands gripping hips, cock buried so deep in that tight asshole you can hear him groan before he even starts moving. Then—oh god—the way she arches back when he pulls out just enough to tease before slamming back home again.
