Petite Blonde Sandra Takes Big Cock Deepthroat & Anal Creampie at Home

Sandra stood at the kitchen counter in her tiny cotton shorts and an old tank top, chopping carrots for dinner. The radio played some old pop song low in the background. Stephen came up behind her after his shower, towel still around his waist, hair dripping on the tile.
“Smells good already,” he said, pressing against her back.
She laughed. “It’s just carrots, weirdo.”
His hands slid around her waist. One palm flattened on her flat stomach, the other dipped lower, cupping her mound through the thin fabric. Sandra sucked in a breath but kept chopping.
“Stephen… the carrots.”
“Fuck the carrots,” he muttered against her neck.
He was already half-hard, pressing the bulge into the cleft of her ass. She rocked back once, teasing, then set the knife down. Her heart picked up. The neighbor’s dog was barking outside again—same time every evening. She hoped they stayed outside tonight.
Stephen tugged her shorts and panties down in one motion. They bunched at her thighs. His fingers found her slit, already slick. Two fingers pushed inside easy. Sandra braced on the counter, ass pushing back.
“Goddamn, you’re wet,” he groaned.
“Been thinking about your cock all afternoon,” she admitted, voice low.
He pulled his towel off. His dick sprang free—thick, veiny, curving up slightly. Sandra turned, dropped to her knees on the cold kitchen floor. No mat, no cushion. Just tile biting into her skin.
She gripped the base, gave a few slow strokes. Pre-cum already beaded at the tip. She licked it off, salty, then opened wide.
Stephen threaded fingers in her blonde hair. Not pulling yet—just holding. Sandra took him deeper on the first slide. Past the head, over the ridge, halfway down the shaft. Her throat flexed. She gagged softly, eyes watering, but pushed forward.
“Fuck yes, baby… just like that.”
She bobbed, saliva coating him. Messy strings dripped from her lips to her chin. Every few strokes she pulled off to breathe, gasping, then dove back. When her nose pressed into his trimmed pubes she held there, throat convulsing around him.
Stephen’s hips jerked. “Shit—gonna make me cum too quick.”
Sandra pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at him, spit shining on her chin. “Not yet. Want you in my ass first.”
He helped her up. She kicked the shorts off completely. Naked from the waist down, tank top riding high, she bent over the counter. Ass up, back arched, perfect little cheeks spread just enough.
Stephen spat on his fingers, rubbed the saliva over her tight hole. Then more on his cock. He pressed the fat head against her pucker.
“Slow,” she reminded him.
“Always slow at first.”
He pushed. The ring resisted, then gave. Sandra hissed through her teeth. Inch by inch he sank in. Halfway she reached back, spread herself wider. He bottomed out with a grunt.
“Fuck… so tight,” he breathed.
Sandra whimpered, adjusting. “Move. But easy.”
He started shallow thrusts. Skin slapped softly against skin. The radio kept playing. Some commercial now. Sandra braced harder, knuckles white on the edge of the counter.
“Harder,” she panted after a minute.
Stephen gripped her hips. Thrusts turned firmer, deeper. Each pull-out left her hole gaping slightly before he slammed back in. Sandra’s hand shot between her legs. Fingers circled her clit fast.
“God—yes—fuck my ass, Stephen.”
Sweat beaded on her lower back. Her blonde hair stuck to her neck. The counter rattled with each thrust. A glass wobbled, almost tipped.
She rubbed herself frantically. “I’m close… don’t stop.”
He pounded faster. Balls slapped her wet pussy. The wet squelch of her fingers mixed with the meaty smack of ass against groin.
Sandra came first. Legs shook. A sharp cry escaped before she bit her lip to muffle it. Her asshole clenched hard around him in pulses.
“Fuck—gonna fill you,” Stephen growled.
He buried deep. Hips jerked once, twice. Hot spurts flooded her. Sandra moaned low, feeling every pulse. Thick cum pushed back around his shaft as he gave a final grind.
They stayed locked together a few seconds, breathing hard.
He pulled out slowly. A thick white dribble leaked from her stretched hole, ran down her thigh. Sandra straightened, wincing a little.
“Jesus,” she laughed breathlessly. “That was intense.”
Stephen grabbed a paper towel from the roll, wiped himself, then gently dabbed between her cheeks. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… wow.” She turned, kissed him quick. “Dinner’s gonna be late.”
He smirked. “Worth it.”
She pulled her shorts back up—cum still leaking, soaking into the cotton. Stephen retied his towel. Sandra picked up the knife again like nothing happened.
The carrots sat half-chopped. The oven timer beeped—whatever was in there needed turning.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Round two after we eat?”
Stephen grinned. “Only if you deepthroat me clean first.”
Sandra rolled her eyes but smiled. “Deal.”
The dog next door kept barking. The radio switched to another song. Normal life clicked back into place—messy, sticky, and still warm.