Peeked through the bedroom door and saw your wife in a black mask, legs hooked over his shoulders while she moans at being filled like this. No warning—just thick fingers disappearing inside her ass while she rides them with one hand gripping the headboard. He steps closer when she arches back too far, hips grinding against the mattress like she’s begging to be caught. Then the mask slips—just enough to see those heavy-lidded eyes lock onto you before she whimpers louder. No lube needed here; just raw hunger and years of practice.
