She starts with her own fingers, slow and deliberate, watching his face while her stockings slide down her thighs. No hesitation—just confidence. Then up onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as she lowers herself onto that cock like it’s been years since anyone touched her right. Thighs quivering from experience, not effort. The sheets get tangled in those stockings before they’re yanked off entirely—one hand braced on his chest for balance while the other grips his hip to set the pace. That mouth? Open just enough to gasp between thrusts when he flips her over mid-motion—ass in the air now, tits smacking against his thighs every time he slams home.