Sophia

Sophia walked onto the set in a tiny mini-skirt, no panties underneath. I caught a clear view when she sat. Asked if she really flew up from LA like that. She smiled. "Yes," she said. "I like it when men glance between my thighs and wonder what I do." Blonde hair. Heavy, fake tits. 2003. The lights came up. A thick machine dildo waited on the table, already slick. She spread her legs without being told, knees wide, skirt riding up until everything showed. The camera rolled. She grabbed the base, guided the head to her pussy first, then changed her mind. She shifted forward, lined it up with her ass, and pushed. Slow at first, then steady. Her big tits shook with every thrust. She kept talking between moans, voice low, dirty. The motor kicked in harder. She took it deeper, ass stretching around the shaft, blonde hair sticking to her face. No hesitation, no softness. Just raw need and a machine that never tired. She came hard, legs trembling, skirt still bunched at her waist. The shot held until the last pulse faded.