Busy Hands

Anya watches from the doorway while Charlie works on his bike. Oil on his fingers, sunlight on her skin. She steps closer, nipples already tight under her top. He stands and she drops to her knees without a word, hands moving straight to his belt. She pulls him out and takes him into her mouth, slow at first, then deeper until her lips meet her hand. Saliva glistens on his shaft when she pulls back for air. Charlie threads his fingers through her dark hair and holds her there, the head of his cock pressing into her throat. She doesn’t fight it. She swallows around him, throat working, eyes wet. When he lets her go she gasps once and goes right back down, nose pressed to his stomach this time. Her natural tits sway with each bob of her head. He pulls her up, spins her, and bends her over the seat. One thrust and he’s inside her pussy to the hilt. Anya moans loud, pushing back to meet every stroke. Her wetness coats him. Charlie grips her hips hard, fucking her deep until his rhythm breaks and he spills inside her. He slips free, spent, and she stays bent over, cum sliding down the inside of her thigh.