Didn’t mean to peek—but there she is: Blake Blossom, all big-titted and flushed, riding some poor sap like her life depends on it. Door half-open, sheets tangled, that look in her eyes—half guilty, half daring you to stay secret. Legs wrapped tight around his waist as he grunts beneath her; every bounce makes those tits jiggle just enough to make you wonder if this was planned or pure accident. Then she leans down—lips parted, tongue peeking out—and starts grinding harder when he groans too loud. Like she’s testing how far they’ll go before someone walks in. Fingers dig into his shoulders while her thighs squeeze so tight you can hear it through the wood...
