Stockings and Sighs on the Blue Mat

Moans spill into the hallway before the door even shuts. She kicks off sneakers, yanks down yoga pants, and drops onto the blue mat like she owns the place. Stockings torn at the knees, tits already heavy and swaying, she straddles him and sinks slow until he’s buried balls-deep. Thighs clench around his waist, hips roll in lazy circles, each grind pulling a groan from his throat. Switches to reverse cowgirl without breaking rhythm, fingers digging into his thighs as she bounces faster. Couch cushions squish with every thrust, the frame groaning in time. He flips her onto her back, pins her wrists above her head, and pounds until her spine arches off the floor.