Chris’s eyes had been glued to Mary’s body for months. Today, with his wife’s car finally gone, the house was quiet except for the sound of running water. He found her at the sink, her back to him. That view—the way her tight uniform strained over her massive, round ass, the cascade of silky black hair down her back—made his cock instantly rock-hard in his pants.

He moved silently across the kitchen tile. “Need a hand, Mary?”

She jumped, turning. Her amazing large tits, full and heavy, bounced with the motion. Her dark eyes widened. “Mr. Chris, I’m almost finished.”

“I’m not.” His voice was a low growl. He closed the distance, his hands going straight to that glorious ass. He squeezed the firm, juicy cheeks through the thin fabric. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on this for so long.”

“Sir, we shouldn’t…” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away. Her breath hitched as he ground his stiff dick against her ass.

“You want this too,” he murmured, one hand sliding up to palm a huge tit. The weight of it, the softness, the hard nipple poking through her bra and uniform—fuck. He pinched that nipple, making her gasp. “I’m gonna taste these.”

He spun her around, his mouth crashing onto hers. The kiss was sloppy, hungry. His tongue plunged into her mouth as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of her uniform. He got it open, pushing the fabric off her shoulders. Her bra followed. Her tits spilled