


Midday sun beats down on a small private terrace. A man sits on the edge of a sturdy wooden table, jeans shoved to his ankles. Jena straddles him, her own jeans bunched around her thighs, tank top pushed above her breasts. They’re locked in a deep, wet kiss—her arms around his neck, his hands gripping her hips. Her body rocks slowly, riding him; sweat glistens on her back and between her breasts, and slick fluids coat the base of his cock where they’re joined. A low side angle catches the curve of her ass, the bounce of her breasts, and the way her hair falls forward as she moans into his mouth.




