Tan lines around her thighs from years of stockings. Wet lips parted as she moans into the pillow, fingers digging into the cushion. That blonde wig shifts as she rocks back onto him, hips slapping against his thighs. Pink rope tied tight around his wrist—he doesn’t ask permission before shoving deeper. No lube needed; just raw heat and that pop every time he bottoms out inside her. She whimpers when he grabs her hair and yanks—legs trembling but never stopping.
