Peeking through the half-open door shouldn’t have been this good. Blondie in her late forties with a body built to sin was already riding some poor bastard when you walked in—no warning, no shame. Tits swinging free, nails digging into his back as she took every inch like it was owed to her. Then he grabs her hips and flips—her face hits the pillow, ass up, stockings halfway down. One thrust later and you hear it: that wet slap of cock against pussy before he pulls out just long enough to spit on those swollen lips before burying himself balls-deep again. Legs shaking by the time she turns around, mascara smeared but grinning like a cat who got exactly what she wanted.
