
William likes to think he’s Mr. Modern Guy. She wants top? Sure, go for it. Still, watching the two of them wrestle over a single flat-pack screw, you’d guess they’d already forgotten the slogan. She’s perched on the half-built dresser; he’s kneeling on carpet lint, tongue tracing slow circles between her thighs. Every lick earns a muttered “fuck, that’s new” from her, and she answers by dropping to her knees and wrapping a firm hand around his cock. She drags her mouth down the whole length, works tongue and grip in lazy circles until his knees quake. Finished with foreplay, he hoists her onto the wobbly frame, lines up and slides in deep. Their fingers knot, bodies lock, and the dresser’s instruction sheet flutters to the floor like confetti nobody’s counting.
William likes to think he’s Mr. Modern Guy. She wants top? Sure, go for it. Still, watching the two of them wrestle over a single flat-pack screw, you’d guess they’d already forgotten the slogan. She’s perched on the half-built dresser; he’s kneeling on carpet lint, tongue tracing slow circles between her thighs. Every lick earns a muttered “fuck, that’s new” from her, and she answers by dropping to her knees and wrapping a firm hand around his cock. She drags her mouth down the whole length, works tongue and grip in lazy circles until his knees quake. Finished with foreplay, he hoists her onto the wobbly frame, lines up and slides in deep. Their fingers knot, bodies lock, and the dresser’s instruction sheet flutters to the floor like confetti nobody’s counting.