She knew someone was watching as she sat there, legs crossed just enough. The stepmother’s man—no, her man—was right there on screen. But when he leaned back and let his fingers trace down her thigh? She didn’t flinch. Not until his hand slipped under that tight black dress. Cock thick and heavy between her thighs, sliding in slow like she’d been waiting for this all along. The chair creaked as she shifted, tits pressing against the fabric of her dress like they couldn’t contain themselves either. ‘You’re so wet,’ he murmured into the mic while his fingers traced circles around her clit through the material—she gasped but didn’t pull away.
