You weren’t supposed to see this. The door was left cracked just enough—an aunt in a tight sweater, knees spread wide over her nephew’s boyfriend on the couch. No panties under that skirt, just wetness glistening as he buries his face between her thick thighs while she strokes herself with one hand and guides him deeper with the other. The angle is perfect—her fingers tangled in his hair as she takes him down her throat without breaking eye contact like she knows you’re watching. When he flips her onto her back, those big tits bounce with every thrust, and you hear it—the wet slap of skin against skin mixed with moans that sound like they’ve been doing this for years.
