The Sensual Side of mother pegging son

By the fireplace’s warm flicker, mother pegging son paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “mother pegging son.” The friction builds deliciously in mother pegging son, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “mother pegging son” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in mother pegging son, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “mother pegging son” like a prayer.