Real 18yo Teen GF Deepthroat & Cumshot Home Video – Raw Couple Fuck

James walked into the kitchen at 7:15 p.m., still in his work polo, tie already yanked loose. Betty stood at the stove stirring spaghetti sauce, wearing nothing but an oversized band tee that barely covered her ass and a pair of pink cotton panties. The TV in the living room droned some reality show rerun.
“Smells good,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter.
Betty glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “You’re late. Again.”
He stepped behind her, hands sliding around her waist. “Traffic sucked. Missed you though.” His fingers dipped under the hem of the shirt, brushing the soft skin above her waistband. She didn’t pull away.
She turned the burner down to low. “Sauce needs ten more minutes.” Her voice dropped. “Think you can behave for ten minutes?”
James pressed his hips forward so she could feel him already half-hard against her ass. “Probably not.”
Betty laughed under her breath, then reached back and squeezed him through his slacks. “Horny bastard.”
That was it. No more pretending.
He spun her around. Their mouths crashed together—sloppy, urgent, teeth clicking once before they found the right angle. Tongues sliding, her hands yanking his shirt up while he shoved hers higher, exposing her small, natural tits. No bra. Just pale skin and pink nipples already stiff from the AC and the sudden heat between them.
“Fuck, I love these,” he muttered against her neck, sucking a mark just below her collarbone.
Betty tugged his belt open, fingers fumbling for a second before the zipper gave. She shoved his pants and boxers down just enough. His cock sprang free, thick and already leaking at the tip.
She dropped to her knees right there on the tile floor. No cushion, no porn-star grace—just eager. She wrapped her lips around the head, tongue swirling once, twice, then pushed forward.
James groaned. “Shit, baby…”
Betty took him deeper. Her throat opened a little more each time she bobbed. Saliva dripped down her chin after the third push. She gagged softly once but didn’t stop—kept going until her nose brushed his trimmed pubes. Deepthroat. Messy. Real.
He tangled fingers in her dark hair, not forcing, just holding while she worked him. Wet sucking sounds filled the kitchen, louder than the TV.
After a minute she pulled off gasping, strings of spit connecting her lips to his shaft. “Your turn,” she panted.
James lifted her onto the counter like she weighed nothing. The sauce pot bubbled quietly beside them. He yanked her panties to the side—no time to take them off. Her pussy was already slick, lips puffy and pink.
He spread her thighs wider. First kiss on her clit, light, teasing. Then he flattened his tongue and licked a slow stripe from her entrance up. Betty moaned, head tipping back against the cabinet.
“James—fuck—right there…”
He ate her like a starving man. Tongue flicking her clit fast, then slow circles, then dipping inside her. She tasted tangy and sweet. He moved lower, dragging his tongue over her asshole in one long swipe.
Betty jolted. “Oh my god—you dirty fucker—” But her hips rolled up, asking for more.
He licked her ass again, firmer this time, circling the tight ring while his thumb rubbed her clit. She was shaking now, thighs clamping around his ears.
“Gonna come—don’t stop—”
He didn’t. Tongue pressing inside her ass a little, thumb grinding circles. She came hard, a sharp cry, pussy clenching on nothing, wetness smearing his chin.
James stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Turn around.”
Betty hopped off the counter on shaky legs, bent over, elbows on the cold granite. He tugged her panties down to her knees this time. Lined up. Pushed in slow at first—her pussy still fluttering from the orgasm.
“Fuck, so tight,” he grunted.
Then harder. Skin slapped skin. The counter edge dug into her hips. She pushed back to meet every thrust.
“Harder—fuck me harder—”
He grabbed her hips, pounding deep. Her tits swung under the shirt. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The kitchen smelled like tomato sauce, sex, and her shampoo.
She reached back, spreading her ass cheeks a little. “Like that view?”
“Goddamn right.” He pulled out, slapped his cock against her asshole once, twice, then slid back into her pussy.
They switched. He sat on one of the kitchen chairs. Betty straddled him, facing him. She sank down slowly, taking every inch. They kissed again—deep, messy, tongues everywhere while she rolled her hips.
“Ride it, baby,” he growled against her mouth.
She did. Bouncing faster. Natural tits jiggling right in his face. He sucked one nipple hard, then the other. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
“Close again—fuck—”
James gripped her ass, helping her move. “Me too. Where do you want it?”
“On me—on my tits—please—”
She climbed off, dropped to her knees again. James stood. She jerked him fast, mouth open, tongue out.
He came hard. Thick ropes hit her tongue first, then her chin, then splashed across her natural tits. White streaks on pale skin. She milked him through it, squeezing the last drops out.
They both panted.
Betty looked down at the mess on her chest and laughed breathlessly. “You’re cleaning this up.”
James grabbed a dish towel from the counter, wiped her chin gently, then her tits. “Deal.”
The timer on the stove beeped.
Betty stood up on wobbly legs, pulled her panties back into place, tugged the shirt down. Cum still glistened on her skin under the fabric.
“Sauce is done,” she said, turning the burner off like nothing happened.
James zipped up, grinning. “Dinner and a show. Best Tuesday ever.”
She smacked his arm lightly. “Shut up and get plates. Neighbors probably heard everything.”
They both laughed, cheeks flushed, still catching their breath while the spaghetti steamed on the stove.