Her eyes half-lidded with experience, the older woman smirks as she leans in—lips parted just enough to tease before locking onto his. Tongues clash like old friends catching up; no finesse left here, just years of practice. Hands roam: one gripping his shaft tight enough to leave marks while the other cups his heavy sac. She moans low into his mouth when he finally lets go of her hair long enough to gasp. The bed sheets twist under them as she rolls on top next time—no warning needed now; they’ve done this dance too many times.