All around the house

One glance at Scarlett’s bare skin and Bill’s brain short-circuits. They slam together and stumble out of the bath, barely dry, already grinding. He pins her feet to the hallway floorboards, licks between her toes while she laughs and moans. Doorframes rattle. They crash through the kitchen, where he hauls her onto the counter, jams his tongue between her legs until she grabs his hair and bucks. Pink pussy, warm and slick, gets filled against the fridge, her knees hooked over his shoulders. Mouth next—Scarlett on her knees by the sofa, lips stretched wide while he groans and thrusts. They keep tripping down the hall, half-kissing, half-laughing, furniture scraping. Each room earns another position, a new wet sound. When he finally has her on the bedroom sheets, he comes hard, splattering ropes of white across her tits, her belly, even her chin. They pant, sticky, wrecked, grinning like idiots who just turned the whole place into a slip-and-slide.