That smirk? Pure confidence. Eyes locked on him like he’s her next lesson. Pink lace stockings strain over thick thighs as she straddles him, hands gripping his shoulders while she grinds down—no finesse, just raw power. Couch cushions squish under her weight as she flips him onto his stomach, yanks those pants down past the asshole. ‘You wanted rough?’ Her voice drips with years of experience. He gets pinned face-first into the pillows while she takes control from behind—stocking tops tangled in her grip as she slams home again and again.
