Lunchtime Enticement

The clock ticks away the minutes of their stolen interlude. The woman, her body language confident, straddles the man, her dress riding up to reveal her bare, wet pussy. He grips her ass, pulling her against him, his hardening cock pressing against her through his pants. She grinds against him, her breath hitching as she finds the friction she craves. His hands roam, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples through the thin fabric. She moans, her head tilting back, her dark hair cascading down. They're lost in their dance, oblivious to the world outside this kitchen, their bodies entwined in a passionate, midday tryst.

• la
• a
• del
• hora
• almuerzo

• Unknown