Thick thighs clamped around his wrist as he grinds his cock against her soaked panties. No foreplay—just raw pressure, spit-slicked hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. She gasps, arches into it, but he doesn’t let up: pounding those legs like they’re the only thing keeping him from slamming into that tight pussy next. Panties ruined. Skin reddening. And when she finally comes—messy, sloppy drips down her inner thigh—he yanks back just long enough to blast across her stomach before shoving back in for seconds.
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