...you weren’t supposed to see this. Older guy with inked arms pinned under a fit teen who knows someone’s watching through the door. She rides him slow at first—teasing, grinding against that thick cock like she’s memorizing every inch—then suddenly flips control, nails digging into his shoulders as he groans beneath her. Tits bounce free while he reaches up but never gets close enough; she decides when he can touch. The couch creaks under them both, cushions soaked by the time she finally lets go of his wrists and slams down harder—no mercy left now, just raw hunger until they both collapse in a tangle of sweat and cum.
