That smirk? She’s been doing this since before you were born. Dark hair falling over her shoulders as she arches back, tits jiggling with every thrust—fuck, that couch isn’t built for this kind of action. Hands gripping the armrests like she’s bracing for impact while her thighs shake from years of practice. Mouth open just enough to let out a guttural moan when he hits that spot deep. Her eyes lock onto his like she’s memorizing every second of him losing control between those heavy thighs.