Busty Babe Rides His Dick Off

The denim clings to my thighs like a second skin, rough and unforgiving, when he pushes me back onto the bed. He doesn't bother stripping me completely—just yanks the jeans down past my hips, leaving them bunched around one ankle, trapping my legs in a twisted knot of fabric. The restriction feels like bondage, like he's claimed me without even trying.<br><br>When he enters, the angle is tighter, deeper. I gasp, arching off the mattress, my hands finding his shoulders and digging in. The jeans rub against my inner thighs with every thrust, creating this delicious friction that borders on too much. I wrap my free leg around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting more of that stretch.<br><br>On top, I'm clumsy, one leg tangled in denim, the other braced against the mattress. He helps, hands on my hips lifting me, guiding me down onto his cock with slow, deliberate force. I lean back, hair spilling down my back, and grind against him in circles that make us both moan. The jeans sway from

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