Face-Fucking Track suited Woman in Sheer Curtain Room

Mouth stretched around thick fingers, lips slick and parted. Bench edge digs into her thighs while he forces deeper, her gray hair tousled against white shirt. Room glows soft from wall lights, green sheer curtains billowing faintly. Hands clamp her jaw, pumping rhythmically—gagging echoes off shoji screens. She grips his arm, red nails flashing, body tense in red-white tracksuit. Pace builds relentless, drool spilling down chin onto collarbone. Indoor haze thickens the air, her expression locked in strained ecstasy before he pulls back gasping.