Bored Wifey No More

Nelly Kent stands in the doorway, dressed for trouble. Her breasts push against thin silk. Mugur looks up from his drink and feels the air change. She walks over slow, hips swaying, then drops to her knees without a word. Her lips open around him, warm and wet. She takes him deeper each time, throat relaxing, spit shining her chin. Mugur groans, hand in her hair. She doesn’t stop until her nose presses his stomach and her eyes water. When he pulls free, saliva strings from her mouth to his cock. She turns, leans over the table, lifts her dress. Her ass cheeks spread wide, glistening with oil she rubbed there earlier. Mugur steps behind her, lines up, and pushes in. She gasps as he fills her ass. He works deeper with every thrust until his hips slap her skin. Nelly reaches back, spreads herself wider, begging for more. He gives it to her—hard, steady strokes that make her moan. Her tits bounce against the wood. Sweat beads on her back. Mugur grips her waist, drives in all the way, then pulls out just before he comes. Thick ropes of cum land across her ass cheeks and lower back, dripping down as she breathes hard against the table.