A POV Sphinctacular, Scene #04

Savannah Fox presses those curves against the glass, teasing him from the other side. Tits out. Shorts riding up the crack of her huge, soft ass. She bounces that ass like she knows he’s watching and aching. The camera catches every roll and jiggle as she struts inside. Mark sits sprawled on the couch, cock already hard. She climbs on like it’s owed to her, slides his length through the smothering heat between her cheeks. Grinds. Slow. Then sits on his face, smothering him in warm flesh until his breath comes in short bursts. She drops to her knees. Mouth open. Tongue working the head before she takes him deep, the wet sound of her spit heavy in the quiet room. POV shots stay tight on her lips stretched wide, mascara starting to run. When she straddles him again it’s pure greed—wet pussy swallowing him whole, hips snapping, her tits bouncing with each drop. Mark flips her over. Hands rough on her hips. She’s on all fours now, shorts yanked to one side. He drives into her asshole without warming her up first. Deep, mean strokes that make her gasp and swear. She takes it all—head down, back arched, ass spread wide for every thrust. When he’s ready he pulls out. Savannah turns, mouth open, waiting. He strokes once, twice, then paints her tongue and lips with thick ropes. She swallows what she can, the rest sliding down her chin while the camera lingers on the mess.