She knew someone was watching when she walked in wearing nothing but those tight stockings. Pretends not to notice as he watches from the couch—until her hand slides down her own thigh right there in the living room. Then she turns around and smiles, slow and knowing. No foreplay needed. One second she’s teasing him with her ass pressed against his cock through the fabric; next thing he knows, she’s straddling him on the couch like it’s an invitation written all over her body. Tits swinging, thighs squeezing so tight he can feel every ridge of his dick pressing back against her pussy lips.
