They quit talking to the empty air. No more names thrown at somebody who couldn't answer. Just breath, wet skin, and the sofa complaining under them.
Ray pulled out with a filthy sound and sat back against the cushions, cock slick and standing. He grabbed Prilly by the waist and hauled her with him. She didn't need a speech. She swung a leg over, reached back, and sank onto him facing away first — reverse, ass in his lap, that same tight pussy swallowing him in one drop.
"Fuck—" It punched out of both of them.
She started bouncing. Not cute. Heavy. Hands on his knees, using his thighs like a seat, slamming her ass down until her wetness smeared his lap. Ray's hands found her small tits from behind again and just held on, letting her work. Every drop made that slap louder in the empty shop. She leaned forward, then dropped back against his chest, grinding in circles when her legs started shaking.
