Tan lines from yesterday’s sundress still visible where she hiked up her skirt. Stockings half-rolled down, garter straps biting into pale thighs. Daughter’s boyfriend pinned beneath her on the couch cushions—cock buried to the hilt as she grinds down like she owns him. Heads turned toward you for a second when they hear something drop… then back to it: wet slaps against skin, muffled groans that sound like ‘don’t stop’ instead of ‘shh’. Fingers tangled in his hair mid-thrust while he tries (and fails) not to cum too fast.
