Anal Fest With Yhivi!

Petite and packing heat, Yhivi bounces on the balls of her feet like she’s mainlining caffeine instead of get­ting horny. Codey stands there with that half-smile that says, yeah, she’s gonna get exactly what she ordered. Without a hint of hesitation she whips off her tank top and hops onto the bed, already working her shorts down one tan thigh. Her bare butt lifts an inch—deliberate—like she’s giving him live measurements: B-cup, slim waist, ass that looks good enough to pitch a tent. Codey kicks his sweats toward the laundry pile, cock half-hard and quickly swinging the rest of the way. Yhivi shoots him a look over her shoulder, mouth open in a shark-toothed grin. Codey’s steady hand cups her cheek; she pushes back against it on purpose, daring him to take charge. One slurp of her fingers, then two, and she’s slick enough to take the show from teaser straight to dessert. Codey lines up, nudges, slides—slow at first so they both feel every inch of the stretch—until his balls kiss her warm skin and she lets out this high, surprised laugh that crackles with relief. She rocks her hips forward then slams back, turning the careful start into the no-hands freestyle she clearly came for. Codey laughs too, low and tight, holding her tiny frame exactly where he wants it while the whole room fills with the wet slap of skin on skin.