That look in her eyes—like she’s already won—before his hands even touch her. Blonde hair wild from the wind, sunglasses pushed up to reveal heavy-lidded stares at him like he’s dessert. First grip is slow, teasing: fingers tracing down her belly past the blue bikini bottoms before yanking them aside. No warning needed; she knows exactly what comes next. Back arched against the fencepost, tits jiggling with every thrust while his tattooed arms wrap around to squeeze those saggy but perfect tits hard enough for marks to show tomorrow morning.