She knew someone was peeking. Pink thong riding low, tits heaving as she locks eyes with the camera like she wants to be seen. First, her mouth wraps around him—sloppy wet sounds, gagging just enough to make him groan. Then she flips onto all fours over his lap, ass up and begging for it rougher while her fingers dig into the leather cushions. No warning—just heat. Thick thighs squeeze his waist as she rides back hard enough to shake the coffee table behind them. The rainbow blanket slips off; no one cares anymore. Last shot? Her nails scratch down his chest as she comes apart mid-cumshot, whispering
