She shouldn’t have been doing this. Didn’t know anyone was watching as that thick ass settled into the backseat, milk still on her chin from some sick game earlier. Then he climbed in—no invitation needed—and just started eating like it was his job. No protest, no shame—just a slow grind of hips and fingers tangled in his hair while she whispered filth to herself. No foreplay. Just tongue deep inside that swollen slit, fingers pinching nipples through the shirt while she rides his face like a tramp who knows exactly what she wants.
