Anissa Kate’s tight black stockings and half-unbuttoned blouse tell the whole story before they even hit the floor. The plumber doesn’t waste time—knees spread on the kitchen counter, his cock already buried deep in her dripping pussy while she moans into a dishtowel to muffle the sounds. No foreplay, just hard slams against wood grain as his hands grip her hips like he owns them. She comes fast—legs shaking, back arching—but he isn’t done yet. Drags her onto the table next, fingers pinching nipples through thin fabric until she whimpers. Stockings stay halfway down thighs; one shoe kicked off but left behind like evidence.
