Tan lines on her thighs from years of shaving. Wet lips glistening under fluorescent light. She leans against the sink, ass pressed back just right for him to slide in deep without warning. No lube needed—her juices coat every inch as he fucks her slow and steady against the porcelain. Her tits bounce with each thrust, nipples hard enough to bite. One hand braced on the countertop while she rides him like a woman who knows exactly what turns them both on most. The mirror fogs up when they get sloppy—breathing heavy, moans muffled by steam. Then it happens: that final push where he buries himself so far inside she gasps into his shoulder before cumming all over his cock.
