Black dress hiked up past her thighs, stockings already snagged on something sharp. She doesn’t even flinch when they rip free—just spreads wider for that next deep thrust. Sagging tits bounce with every slam of his hips against her round ass. The couch creaks under them both as she reaches back and guides him deeper by the waistband of his pants. Hair wild from clawing at the cushions, mascara smudged but eyes locked on him like she’s memorizing every second. When he finally pulls out just long enough to flip her onto her back, those wrinkled thighs fall open without hesitation—already glistening from taking it rough.