Dirty Thirty 2

Barbie's husband is a fucking snoozefest, especially between the sheets. The way he just lays there like he's getting his oil changed. She keeps picturing some filthy gigolo showing up to pound her stupid, grab her hips and make her cunt clench around a real cock. And then — holy shit — the guy's at her door, tall, hard, already eye-fucking her like he knows exactly how her panties are sticking to her wet lips. The second she lets him in he spins her around, palms her tits through her dress, and grinds his throbbing dick right against her ass. Barbie moans, loud and needy, as his fingers yank down her top and pinch her nipples raw. Then he bends her over the couch without asking, shoves her soaked thong aside, and slams into her dripping hole in one brutal thrust. She cries out, walls clenching around every thick inch as he rails her like he owns her, pounding her soaked pussy until she’s dripping down her thighs and begging for more like the desperate slut she’s always wanted to be.