...her tan line where the seatbelt used to be, still warm from driving. Fingers wrapped around a shaft slick with spit, knuckles pressed against his stomach as she teases it forward. No time for foreplay—he’s already half-hard just from watching her bite that full bottom lip while adjusting on his lap. Then those heavy tits press against his chest, nipples brushing skin through fabric, and she drops down slow... until he’s buried deep inside her without warning. Backrest creaks under their weight, seats reclined just enough to let gravity do the work. Her ass clenches once—twice—and then she starts moving like this isn’t forbidden at all.
