Biggest mistake peeking through that half-open door. She knew someone was there but kept playing with herself anyway. Graying hair tied back, fingers already wet when she caught your eye and smirked before pulling you inside. Black lace thong barely covering anything as she straddles your lap—no warning, just heat and weight crushing down. Tits spill over the edge of the couch while she rides raw cock in a room lit only by streetlamps outside. Then—knees hit floor without a word, lips wrapped tight around you until tears stream down her cheeks from struggling to swallow every inch. Didn’t expect this much sloppiness from someone who looks so put-together.*
