Anal on the Table: A Finger's Trail

A hungry gaze meets over a worn wooden table. A finger, wet with saliva, traces a path from her navel to her eager hole. She shudders, pushing back, demanding more. He obliges, sliding his finger in, feeling her tightness, her heat. The table, a silent witness, bears their weight as he leans in, adding another finger, stretching her, preparing her for his cock. She whimpers, her body trembling with anticipation. He withdraws his fingers, leaving her empty, craving. Then, with a wicked grin, he replaces his fingers with his cock, filling her, making her his, right there on the table.

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