Banana kaviar for you

She’s bent over the couch in black stockings and tiny black underwear, ass pointed at the camera, barely covering herself. You see her long dark hair and slim frame as she reaches back to spread herself. The guy’s already hard, no warm-up, just pushes her face down and slides in from behind. She’s moaning into the couch cushion, one hand gripping the back, the other tugging at her nipple through the thin fabric. Camera’s low, close to the action — you see every thrust from behind, the way her body jolts when he goes deep. Earlier she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, eating sushi off a plate with chopsticks, totally casual, like she wasn’t about to get drilled. That same plate is now knocked to the side, forgotten. He pulls out, makes her turn around, face his dick. She takes it without hesitation, deep throat in one go, eyes closed, cheeks hollowing. No talking, just sex — raw, direct, no fluff. Camera stays tight, mostly POV or low angles, keeps it intimate. Lighting’s dim, natural, looks like living room at night with the TV flickering in the background. Bookshelves, a couch, everything slightly out of focus except her body. She’s petite, maybe early 20s, pale skin, long legs in those sheer black stockings that don’t last long once things get going. He’s not showing his face, just hands and cock — this is her show. At the end she’s on her back, legs up, getting pounded in missionary, sweat on her forehead, breathing fast. No climax shown, just cuts out while he’s still inside her.