Hubby Pulls My Hair and Grips My Thick Ass

Her dark hair cascades down her back, a waterfall of night that frames her creamy skin and luscious curves. The man behind her has his hands buried in that mane, pulling her head back, exposing the delicate line of her neck. His other hand roams over her hips, the swell of her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp.

His fingers dig deep into her flesh, the sound of his palm slapping against her cheek echoing through the air. She moans, the vibrations of her voice humming against your skin. The rhythm is slow, teasing, building the ache that threatens to consume you.

The red glow casts long shadows over their bodies, emphasizing every curve and contour. The floral pattern of the bedsheet beneath them is a blur as they move together. His grip on her hair tightens, his hand on her hip pulling her back against him. The sounds they make are a symphony of desire, moans and gasps and the slap of skin on skin.