Welcoming Her With Open Legs

Tommy and Cory already had their eye on Leana the second their son brought her home. They get her alone in their living room, clothes half off before she can even drop her purse. Cory’s big tits bounce as she drops to her knees; Tommy’s hands keep busy with the rest. Leana’s wide eyes say “you’re kidding,” but her legs open anyway. Hands, tongues, sweat—they’re all in before the front door finishes swinging shut. Halfway through the mess Nick shows up, keys jangling. Tommy jumps up fast, steering him toward the kitchen with a loud, “Hey, sport, wanna beer?” Cory slips behind the couch, fingers still inside Leana, whispering, “Stay quiet, baby.” Every time Nick turns, one of them blocks his view while the other keeps Leana’s mouth busy or her legs spread. Leana bites her lip, trying not to moan when Cory’s tongue slides back in, or when Tommy eases into her from behind the couch. Nick rambles about traffic. Tommy laughs too loud. Cory answers a question with her lips still slick, hidden just enough that Nick never catches the rhythm of the couch creaking. They trade places again, each parent keeping the poor guy distracted long enough for Leana to ride the other out of sight. The question hangs: how much longer can they juggle son, wife, and moans without someone finally noticing?