Mother Daughter Exchange Club #41

She’s back from December 11th 2015 and she still owns the room. Dark hair brushing her shoulders, a pair of natural tits that move when she breathes, no bra to hold them back. He’s already got his hands on her, slow strokes up her thighs, thumbs pressing deep. The massage turns dirty fast—fingers sliding inside, slick and greedy, working her until her hips rock and her breath catches. She leans in and kisses him like she means it, tongues lazy, lips hungry. Every touch lands harder than the last, and the way she opens up for him is straight heat.