High Rise Anal

Brett watches the high-rise across the street, half-dressed on her couch. Her husband left hours ago, another long day, another paycheck. She sips wine and stares, waiting for something that breaks the routine. Then the new neighbor steps onto his balcony and looks straight at her. Mick doesn’t smile or wave. He simply watches, the way she watches. The curtain behind her slips open a little more. Her blouse is already unbuttoned, tits bare to the glass. She leans back, legs spread, hand sliding down. He answers by loosening his belt. A silent back-and-forth starts: one slow stroke from her, two from him, both of them getting louder without a sound. Eventually the distance is too much. She walks over, lets herself in, and finds him waiting. He drops his pants, she drops to her knees. Her mouth takes him deep while she pushes her own shorts down. Mick lifts her, turns her, and sets her on the table. His tongue works between her cheeks, wet, determined. She rocks back into his face. When he stands, she spreads wider. He sinks in slow, fills her ass in long, deliberate strokes. She moans, reaches back to spread herself for him. After a while he pulls out, brings his cock to her lips. She licks him clean, tastes herself, then climbs over him so they can taste each other at the same time. Her big tits press to his stomach while his tongue stays busy between her legs and his fingers stay deep in her ass. She grinds, he sucks, the 69 turns hot and messy until she shakes and he follows, thick ropes across her tits and throat. They stay like that, breathing hard, neither of them in a hurry to move.