Her mouth is a vise—wrinkled skin stretched tight, mascara smeared from clawing at his legs. Bald head bobs slow but deliberate, throat muscles flexing as she swallows again and again. Not gagging for attention; this is how she’s done it for decades. He groans, fingers tangled in her hair as he thrusts deeper—but she lets him fuck her face like it’s nothing new. Then she pulls back with a wet pop, red lips glistening, eyes locked on him like he owes her something. And when he flips her onto the couch cushions? She spreads wide without hesitation—ass up first because why waste time? Saggy tits jiggle as he pins her down by the hips and drives.