She’s got that innocent smile, feet propped up like nothing’s wrong—until he starts tracing circles on her arch. Then the toes curl. One leg lifts just enough to give him access. That’s when she knows someone’s watching. Her stockings ride up slow, teasingly slow, as she arches into his touch. But it’s not just a massage anymore—the way she bites her lip when he presses harder between her thighs says otherwise. Next thing you know? She flips onto all fours over his lap, ass high in the air while he holds those stockings taut around her waist. The fabric rips with a wet sound before she turns back—legs spread wide—and lets him see exactly what happens next.
