She lies sprawled across the rumpled white sheets in shameless, dripping want, arms flung above her head to stretch her lithe body taut, thrusting those massive, heavy breasts high—soft pale flesh overflowing, nipples thick and darkly flushed, already pebbled tight from the mere heat of her own arousal as golden bedroom light licks every swollen curve. Her long legs fall open wide, knees bent, hips canted upward in raw invitation; the sheer lace panties cling obscenely low on her hips, floral embroidery stretched thin and translucent over her slick, puffy mound, the damp fabric molded to every detail of her swollen lips and the glistening slit between, dark wet spot blooming wider with each slow grind against nothing but air. Lips parted on a soft, broken moan, eyes glassy and unfocused, she’s lost in the filthy fantasy of being taken—thick cock slamming deep, stretching her soaked cunt wide, pounding her into the mattress until her whole body seizes, tits bouncing wildly, thighs quaking as she comes hard and loud, gushing around him in violent, clenching pulses that soak the lace and sheets beneath her in hot, endless release. Pure, filthy, trembling need.
