Late night show

My husband was half-asleep, staring at that garbage late-night TV, but I was already wet and ready to ride. Time to wake the fuck up. I slid my hand down his thigh and felt that big, fat dick spring straight to attention, hard as steel. He grinned, pushed the remote away, and yanked my panties down. Spread my legs and lined that fat cockhead right against my asshole. No warm-up, no mercy. Just the thick, wet push of him splitting my tight ring while I clawed the couch cushions. Felt like he was wrecking me and I loved every fucking inch. He buried it to the balls and held there, letting me shake around him before he started pumping—slow, nasty strokes that made my hole grip and quiver. I reached back to spread myself wider for him, begging for every brutal thrust. He slapped my ass, called me his filthy little anal whore, and drilled me harder. Each slam rattled my whole body. Sweat slick, skin slapping, my juices dripping down my thighs while he wrecked that tender hole. No pillow talk, just raw, filthy fucking. When he finally unloaded, he shot deep, hot cum flooding my guts until it leaked out around his cock. He stayed buried, dick twitching, while I shook and moaned like the greedy anal slut I am.