Pink lace. Tits heavy in his face. She straddles him backward, rolls her hips once, twice. His grip tightens on her waist. Pace jumps from teasing to unyielding. Stockings rip at the thigh. She doesn’t stop. Pink lace clings to her ass as she bounces. His cock disappears inside her with each stroke. Fingers dig into her hips. She arches back, tits swinging free. Soft moans turn to sharp gasps. No words, just sweat and skin and lace tearing under his grip.
