Anal teen angel Lizzie

Lizzie’s phone glows under her thumbs while Dima flips through the glossy pages beside her. She types a little slower, then stops. The air feels too quiet. She lifts her hips, slides her shorts down, lets them puddle around her ankles, and keeps her eyes on the screen. Nothing but bare skin and that steady tap of her fingers. Dima’s magazine lowers. He watches the smooth curve of her ass rise as she pretends nothing’s changed. She stretches one leg, tilts forward, and the invitation is right there—pink and tight, waiting. He doesn’t speak. He simply moves in behind her, palms her cheeks, spreads them, and presses the head of his cock where she’s warm and ready. She keeps texting. The first slow push stretches her open, and her next message never gets finished. She bites her lip, grips the cushion, and takes every inch he gives her until the lazy afternoon is nothing but steady thrusts and the wet sound of her ass taking him deeper.