Emperor - Part 8

She mounts him, a slow rise and fall as Janine rides her lover to rapture. Ferrer's hands grip her hips hard, guiding each thrust, her breasts swaying heavy and slick with sweat. She bites her lip, eyes half-closed in pleasure. When she leans forward, pressing her wet folds tighter around him, he moans—deep, feral—and slaps her ass, leaving a red palm print. The bed creaks. She reaches between her own legs, fingers brushing over where they join, she grins wickedly. "You like that, fucker?" Neither of them cares about the cameras rolling. They fuck harder, driven by heat and greed, their bodies glistening.