She starts fully dressed—stockings halfway up thighs, vest clinging to saggy but proud tits—then tears the damn thing off like she’s been waiting years. No foreplay needed; just a smirk and that knowing look of a woman who’s done this before. He barely gets his jeans down before she’s straddling him, riding slow at first then grinding harder until the bedframe groans. Tits bounce with every thrust, stockings slipping lower as her legs shake. When he flips her over mid-fuck? She laughs through gasping breaths and begs for more.