Anal Selfie

Matilde Ramos's thick, tanned ass fills the frame she's snapping from the bed, lace thong riding up between her cheeks, phone held out like she wants evidence. Bass thumps in her headphones and she moves with it, rolling onto her knees for a better angle. One quick crop, a wicked smirk in the mirror—done. Sent. In the kitchen he's chopping fruit, then his phone buzzes. The image loads and his knife clatters onto the cutting board. He doesn’t even wipe his hands, just shoves his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock and pads toward the bedroom, still hard, cock swinging with every step. She’s still giggling when he hits the mattress behind her. The phone flies. His hand fists in her hair, tugging her back until her throat arches, and he leans in to bite the spot just below her jaw. His free hand slips under the thong, finds her already soaked, and he chuckles right into her ear. “Yeah, figured as much.” Two fingers shove in without fanfare, knuckles knocking as he fingers her sloppy for maybe twenty seconds—then he yanks the thong aside and angles his cock down between her ass. She plants both palms on the sheets and pushes back against him, greedy. He plants one palm on her lower back for leverage, lines the slick head with her rim, and sinks in one smooth thrust. She bucks, teeth chattering at the sudden stretch, and the laugh that follows sounds just as surprised as turned-on. He draws all the way out until the crown is the only thing left in her, then surges forward harder, grinning when he feels her clamp down. Each stroke jolts her forward. The slap of his pelvis against her ass comes sharp and rhythmic, thick brown cheeks rippling every time he buries to the hilt. Sweat slides down the curve of her spine. He spits on the winking pucker when he’s almost all the way out again, using it to slick another deep drive, shaft gleaming. Her grip around him keeps tightening, little involuntary squeezes that make his balls twitch. She starts shoving back onto every thrust, meeting him halfway, hips writhing like she can’t decide whether to squirm away from how good it feels or fuck herself raw on his dick. He gathers her wrist in one hand, pressing it flat to the small of her back so she can’t pull away, and pounds into her until their bodies crash loud enough to drown out the music.