American Buttman In London, Scene #03

Oh man, get this: she's bent over the kitchen counter, skirt hiked up just enough to tease, and he's right there behind her, hands gripping her hips like he owns the place. That cocky grin on his face says it all—no one's walking in on this anytime soon. She glances back, eyes sparkling with that mix of challenge and heat, whispering, 'Harder, you know you want to.' He doesn't hesitate, thrusting deep, making her gasp and clutch the edge. Sweat beads on their skin as he picks up the pace, bodies slapping together in perfect, filthy rhythm. Her moans build, low and throaty, until she's pushing back against him, chasing that edge. Damn, it's raw, it's real, and it's got that edge that leaves you breathless.