Latina Fever #04

Peter gets hard just thinking about screwing Nivea under the open sky. Before the first thunder-clap he had her bent over a rock, shorts bunched around her thighs. She dropped to her knees right away because nothing makes her wetter than swallowing cock with fresh mountain air in her lungs. Her mouth is pure trouble—slow and greedy, tongue dancing around the head until she’s drooling down the shaft, humming like she just won a contest. He dragged her up by the hair and gave her both holes: drive deep, slam hard, wind whipping at his back and her cries getting louder with every slap. She begged for the next one the second the first finished. Right before he blew he buried in deep and unloaded like a busted dam—thick ropes flooding her cunt until the slick spill ran down her leg. Nivea’s still breathing hard, panting that she’s never seen that much out of anyone at once, and Peter just grins because that’s business as usual.