Mother-in-law fucks the artist

Her daughter’s husband stands there pissed, half-setup, model just flaked. Anastasia sees her shot. She strips right then—bra gone, tits out, skirt up—and plants herself on the chaise, legs spread like she owns the light. He stares. She smirks, says, “Hurry up, hot shot.” He’s still holding the brush when she tells him to shove his cock in her first. She’s already wet. He fucks her hard while the paint dries on the canvas, her soaking the linen beneath them, moaning loud enough the whole building hears. Every thrust rattles the easel. She begs him to paint her like this—cum dripping down her thighs, used, glowing, married to his wife and taking every inch he’s got. He grunts, slams deeper, and she laughs through the heat, drunk on being the bad idea he can’t stop chasing.