She was supposed to be unpacking dolls—not riding his face first thing. Blonde hair tangled, mascara smeared from clawing at the sheets. Stockings torn halfway up her thighs as she yanks him onto the couch by his belt buckle. Pussy glistening, legs spread wide for that first deep thrust—no foreplay needed. Cock disappears between those heavy tits next, chin jiggling with every sloppy gag while her fingers dig into his scalp. Then back on top again, hips snapping so hard the cushions squeak under her weight.
