That Slut Nun Amandha

Frescoes on the ceiling, gold-leaf furniture glowing everywhere, and there's this nun who’s supposed to be on her holy mission. But we can see she’s already keyed up with Amandha, wanting the tension broken fast—she’s hunting a live wire of lust, aching to finger her slick cunt, spread wide and jet hard when she squirts. Lucky girl, she gets downstairs and finds a cock standing tall and thick, already flushed dark and primed just for her. They fall into it quick. Amandha shoves the sofa back, climbs on top and sinks down, pretty pussy swallowing the length until her clit drags against his pelvis every thrust. He grabs her ass, spreads her cheeks so the view stays filthy—nothing hidden. Then he flips her: bent over the antique armrest she gets railed from behind, tits swinging, ass rippling with each slam. From underneath, legs folded wide so everything shows—wet lips gripping, strings of juice clinging to the shaft when he pulls back. Amandha’s in charge when she wants to be, dropping to her knees and throating the whole pole till spit runs down her tits, then back up again, riding deep while she rubs her clit in frantic circles. The finale—hard, messy—leaves a glistening streak across marble and velvet alike.