Silver-haired and spread wide on the blue couch, the older woman’s fingers disappear between her thighs as her belly rises and falls with each breath. She arches her back, mouth parting in a silent gasp while her free hand grips the armrest like she’s trying to anchor herself. The couch cushions sink under her weight as her thighs tremble, her pussy glistening under the light. What happens when she finally lets go of the remote and surrenders to the ache building inside her? Her fingers move faster, knuckles disappearing into her dripping folds as her hips buck up to meet each thrust.
