Wet from the shower, blonde cougar steps out in nothing but a half-unzipped robe—fabric clinging to saggy tits and that belly you know won’t bounce back. She shoves him against the wall first thing, lips already swollen from biting her own tongue while he fumbles with her robe. Tosses it aside like yesterday’s news and straddles his hips mid-shower stall, water sluicing off her thighs as she sinks down slow. No foreplay needed; this is a woman who’s done this before breakfast for decades. Her pussy grips him like a vice when he tries to pull out—no—she growls, nails raking down his chest until he buries himself deep again.