Oh fuck—yes— Miss Adrastea’s lips curl into a smirk as she locks eyes with the camera, stockings glistening under couch lights. One leg hooked over his shoulder, ass flexing in those torn green panties while her free hand slaps her own thigh. ‘You think you can handle this?’ She bites her lip, thighs trembling as he bottoms out inside her—‘Or do I need to show you how it’s really done?’ Fingerprints already marring his chest from where she clawed him during the first thrust.