Didn’t expect this when she walked into the kitchen—black lace dress clinging, tits barely contained by a thin strap. Pretends to wipe down counters but her hand slips under the hem instead. He peeks through the doorway, cock already half-hard. She moans low when his fingers brush against her slit and doesn’t stop even as he steps closer. Flips him onto his back on the linoleum floor right there between appliances. Her mouth seals around him first—deepthroat so hard his knees buckle—and then she’s straddling his face like a queen demanding tribute.
