👎 0 👁 0 views ⏱ 25:01 📅 1 month ago

Tan lines on inner thighs glisten where her dress rode up. Purple-gloved fingers stroke slow at first, then faster—like she forgot someone was watching. Lips wet and parted mid-murmur, eyes flickering toward the hallway every few seconds before dropping back to the book (or pretending). Fingers slip between swollen folds while one hand works that fake cock with practiced rhythm. A muffled gasp when it hits just right—then a sharp inhale as if caught red-handed.