Big Butt Babe Mandy Muse

Dan and I knew Mandy Muse for years, but until tonight nobody had moved past the occasional beer on the couch. She showed up, peeled everything off, and headed straight for the shower, hollering that she couldn’t reach all the hard-to-get spots. Dan followed, soap in one hand, grin in the other. He started at her shoulders, worked the lather down her back, over the curve of her ass, then slipped his fingers between her thighs like he was checking the water temperature. Mandy pushed back against his palm, still slick with soap, so he slid two fingers inside her and twisted slowly, making sure every crease got its fair share of attention. She spread her feet wider on the wet tile, and he dropped the pretense of bathing altogether, one hand gripping her hip, the other pumping steadily while the hot spray rolled off their backs. When he finally pushed his cock into her, it was quick—no angle adjustment, no polite pauses—just a sudden, slick thrust that made her slap a hand against the glass door for balance. Water splashed everywhere as he rocked into her, each stroke punctuated by her low laughter mixing with the steady drumbeat of the showerhead.