Elena stretched languidly across her living room sofa, completely nude, her toned body catching the afternoon light in her quiet suburban house. As a fiercely independent mom who owned her space, she refused to hide when the mood struck. The doorbell chimed. She answered without a robe, finding Mark, her husband's charming colleague, on the porch. 'Well, if it isn't the delivery boy with perfect timing,' she quipped, one hand on her hip. Mark's eyes widened but he recovered with a smirk. 'Elena, you're a vision. Most moms greet guests in clothes.' She stepped closer, voice sharp and playful. 'Clothes are overrated when you're feeling horny. Tell me, Mark, is that bulge in your pants because my wet pussy is already dripping for attention?' He chuckled, stepping inside. 'You're direct. I like it. My cock's been hard since the door opened.' Elena laughed, guiding him to the couch with a firm hand. 'Good. On your knees first—no, wait, I'll take the lead. Show me what you've got.' Their witty banter flew as she pushed him down, her strong grip unbuckling his belt. 'Think you can handle this ass grinding on you later? Or will you be panting too hard?' Mark groaned, 'Try me. I bet that pussy tastes as sharp as your tongue.' She dropped for a slow, teasing blowjob, taking his cock deep while he sweated under her control. 'Mmm, not bad,' she murmured between strokes. 'But I want you to cum only when I say.' The tension exploded as she straddled him, her dripping wet pussy sliding down his hard length. 'Fuck, Elena,' he panted, hands on her ass. She rode him fiercely, bodies slapping, sweat glistening, until she came with a cry, her juices mixing with his cum in a shuddering climax that left them both breathless and grinning.
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