She knew someone was watching. Tattoos crawling up her arms as she kneels on the bathroom floor, pink towel clutched tight around his shaft. Didn’t stop when he groaned—just took him deeper, gagging every time he hit the back of her throat. Later, on that same couch where she pretended to fold laundry earlier? Legs spread wide over his lap while he buried himself between those thick thighs. No lube needed—she was already wet enough for both of them.
