Red lace thong rides up past her plump ass as he yanks it off mid-thrust, leaving it tangled around one ankle. She was pretending not to notice when you walked in—back arched over the armrest of the kitchen couch, tits swinging free from that half-unbuttoned blouse. He grabs a handful of hair and slams into her from behind until she gasps out his name like a prayer. Then she rolls over fast, legs wide open on the cushion, heels digging into his back as she pulls him down for a messy kiss. Her nails drag down his spine every time he bottoms out inside her tight pussy—no lube needed when they’re this desperate. The whole time? Eye contact that says ‘You saw me.
