Tan lines from stockings hugging thick thighs. Screwdriver slipping in slow, deliberate circles inside that wet heat. She knew someone was watching but kept pretending like this wasn’t forbidden. Bent over the armrest of the couch, ass high, fingers digging into the fabric as it slides deeper than any cock ever has. Moans turn into gasps when it hits just right—then she pulls back with a smirk like you’re supposed to be impressed.
