She didn’t expect company. Blonde in her mid-fifties, thick thighs pressed against his waist as she rides him on the couch like it’s her throne. Green polo shirt half-unbuttoned, name tag still there—didn’t even bother taking it off. Legs wrapped tight around his hips, nails digging into his back when he hits deep. The bed frame creaks under her weight later—no sheets left dry. She licks her lips between sentences: 'You’re not supposed to be here.' But neither is this much cum dripping down her chin after she swallows every last drop.
