Cherie DeVille Taked a Huge Cock on Sofa

Cherie kicks the door shut behind them, drops her purse on the couch arm, then yanks Mark's belt free in one fast pull. His cock springs out heavy and thick, already hard, the head glossy. She drops to her knees right there on the carpet, wraps both hands around that shaft, squeezes, slides, spits so it drips down her fingers. She sucks him deep without warning, lips tight, one hand twisting, the other cupping heavy balls that rest against her palm. The sloppy sounds fill the quiet room while she works every inch she can handle, strings of spit sliding off her chin onto the tops of her big bare tits. Mark grabs her hair, thrusts once, twice, makes her gag but pulls back when she hums around him like it's funny. He yanks the low-cut top off her shoulders and lets those heavy breasts spill out, nipples stiff. He slaps his wet cock between them a couple of times, smearing her spit across the soft skin. She leans in, presses her chest tight around him, lets him fuck the warm valley, her tongue flicking out at the tip every time it bumps her chin. He pulls her up quick, spins her, bends her over the wide armrest. Cherie plants her hands, wiggles that juicy ass, looks over her shoulder like she's about to laugh and dare him at the same time. Mark tugs the stretchy skirt up to her waist. No panties. She sticks her hips back so her smooth pink pussy peeks between her thighs, already glossy. Two thick fingers slide in easy, pump once, twice, twist, come out coated. Mark lines up the fat head against her entrance and shoves in hard in one long thrust. Cherie gasps, claws the cushion, knocks a throw pillow to the floor. He grabs her hips and starts to fuck her steady and deep. Every thrust makes her tits sway, the heavy globes bumping the rough fabric of the couch. Her voice rises, breathy fucks and half-laughed moans as she pushes back to meet every stroke. He reaches up, grips the back of her neck with one hand, the curve of her waist with the other, holds her steady while he pounds harder, skin slapping. Wet sounds mix with leather creaking under her knees. Mark spins her again, lays her on her back, and hooks her thighs over his elbows so her spread pussy stays open for him. He sinks back in and leans forward, muscles flexing, balls swinging, each drive making her breath catch. She grips his shoulders, nails digging, bites his bottom lip when he dips down to kiss her, her own spit and his precome still slick on her tongue. He pulls out just long enough to flip her onto all fours, driving in again without waiting. One hand snakes under to rub her clit in quick circles; the other lands sharp slaps across her ass. Each smack leaves a pink print; she laughs, moans, then swears when he grabs her hair and pulls so her back arches, the new angle letting the thick head pound straight into that perfect spot. Cherie's back glistens, little drops of sweat catching the light, and every time Mark pushes deep she pushes back harder until they meet in the middle, the rhythm turning faster and sloppier. He reaches under her, squeezes her swinging tits together, twists her nipples between his fingers until she cries out, the sound raw and guttural. Her pussy clamps hard around him, slick flooding his cock, dripping down her thighs. Mark holds her hips tight, slams in short, fast strokes as his balls tighten, then he buries himself to the hilt and comes in heavy, thick pulses. Cherie reaches down and rubs her clit while he fills her, hips twitching against the orgasm that rips through her too, thighs shaking, breath broken into one long, loud moan. He pulls out slow, his cream leaking in white ropes down the inside of her leg, pooling on the couch cushion. She looks over her shoulder, a cocky little smile, ass still tilted up like she's daring him to give her another round.