SOPHIA LOCKE Submissive MILF Dominated

Sophia Locke steps into frame dressed like she walked straight off a dirty dream. Tight sweater squeezes those heavy tits, boots hug her thick thighs, and the cheap fetish straps bite into her skin. She bends, shakes her ass slow and deliberate, making it jiggle heavy, like the show is just for you and nothing else matters. Then she spreads—hands pulling her cheeks wide, pink holes open to the lens, nothing hidden. Bryan leans in, voice low and dirty, Sophia answering between parted lips and flashing eyes. Dorian walks in already hard and already in charge. Mouth meets mouth hard, tongue and teeth. His hands roam without asking. Then the silk tie he had in his pocket loops around her throat, guiding her down. Throat first—he shoves deep, lips stretch, saliva falls in long strings. She gags but keeps her fingers busy rubbing her cunt in time with each thrust down her windpipe. When he yanks out, she gasps and smiles through spit, eyes already glassy. She drops to her back, legs open, and Dorian drives straight in. Smack across her cheek. Another. He pounds so hard her tits bounce free of the sweater, bra straps hanging loose. Sophia cries out, clutching the carpet. He presses his boot to the side of her face, pushes her down into the rug as he rails her from behind, every stroke punishing. Her moans crawl an octave lower, lower, grinding on his cock while he uses her like property. But Sophia flips the script just long enough—drops to her knees, tongue cleaning Dorian’s rim while her slick fingers stay busy between her legs, messy as sin. Then back on his cock, she rides him hard, knees shaking, tits swinging. Eyes lock. He snarls, grips her hips, pounds upward until that final spurt paints her cheeks, strings across lashes, into open lips. She stays there dripping, panting, owning the filth on her face.