She knew someone was there. Pink lips wrapped tight around that fake cock, eyes half-lidded like she’s daring you to stay secret. Thumb presses hard against her clit while the other hand grips it like it’s real—moaning through clenched teeth every time she bobs down too far. The Christmas tree lights flicker in the background, casting shadows over her flushed face as she rides it slow at first, then faster, hips bucking off the couch cushions. No lube needed; just wet enough from pretending this isn’t happening right in front of you.
