Michael walked into the small apartment after a long shift, kicking off his sneakers by the door. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce hit him right away. Sisi was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing those tiny denim shorts and one of his old band tees that barely covered her ass.
“Hey babe,” she called without turning around. “Dinner’s almost ready. You hungry?”
“Starving,” he said, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing against her back. She leaned into him, still stirring. The TV in the living room played some random reality show, volume low. Their place was small—kitchen opened right into the couch area, bed just around the corner. No real privacy, but they liked it that way.
He kissed her neck, smelling her shampoo mixed with the cooking. “Missed you today.”
She giggled, turning off the burner. “I missed you too. Work sucked?”
“Always does.” His hands slid down to her hips, squeezing. She pushed back against him a little, teasing.
They’d been together almost a year now. Started as friends, then more. Real feelings, not just fucking. But lately they’d been talking about trying new stuff. She wanted to feel closer, try anal. First time for her. He’d been gentle about it, patient. Tonight felt right.
She turned in his arms, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
He nodded, kissing her slow. Her lips were soft, tasting like the sauce she’d sampled. Hands roamed. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. He lifted her onto the counter, right next to the cooling pot.
“Fuck the food for a sec,” she whispered, legs wrapping around him.
He laughed against her mouth. “Gonna burn the place down.”
She reached down, palming him through his jeans. He was already hard. “Then hurry up.”
They stumbled to the couch, shedding clothes. Shirt off, shorts down. She knelt between his legs, looking up with that naughty smile. “Wanna taste you first.”
POV style, her hands on his thighs as she took him in her mouth. Wet, sloppy. She bobbed slow at first, tongue swirling the head. Spit dripped down his shaft. He groaned, fingers in her hair, not pushing, just holding. “God, Sisi… that feels so good.”
She pulled off with a pop, stroking him. “You like when I suck your cock like this?”
“Fuck yes.” She went deeper, gagging a little, eyes watering. Real, messy. Drool on her chin. She loved making him lose it.
After a minute she climbed up, straddling him. Missionary on the couch, legs spread wide. She guided him in, pussy wet and tight. “Mmm, yes… fill me up.”
He thrust up slow, hands on her nice round ass. She rocked, tits bouncing under the tee she still wore. Skin slapped softly. The couch creaked. TV droned in the background—someone arguing about drama.
“Harder,” she moaned. “Fuck me harder, baby.”
He gripped her hips, pounding up. She rode him, grinding her clit against him. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “I’m so close… don’t stop.”
She came first, shaking, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh fuck, Michael!”
He held her through it, kissing her neck. Then flipped her onto her back properly, legs over his shoulders. Deep thrusts, her moans louder. Neighbors might hear, but they didn’t care right now.
After she caught her breath, she looked at him shy. “You still wanna… try the other thing?”
He nodded, heart racing. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
They moved to the bed. She got on all fours, ass up. That perfect Latina ass—round, smooth. He grabbed the lube from the drawer, then the anal beads she’d bought last week. Small ones, purple.
“Start slow,” she said, voice a little nervous but excited.
He kissed down her back, licking her pussy first to relax her. Then lubed his fingers, circling her tight hole. One finger in slow. She gasped, pushed back. “Feels weird… but good.”
Added a second. She moaned, rocking. Then the beads—one by one, popping in. She whimpered, gripping the sheets. “Fuck… stretch me.”
He pulled them out slow, watching her hole wink. Then more lube on his cock. “Ready, babe?”
“Yeah. Go slow.”
He pressed the head against her ass. Pushed gentle. She breathed deep. Pop—the head slipped in. She yelped, then sighed. “Oh shit… big.”
He paused, rubbing her back. “You okay?”
“Yeah… keep going.”
Inch by inch. Tight as hell. Hot. She panted, ass clenching. “Fuck… so full.”
Once all the way in, he held still. Let her adjust. She reached back, touching where they joined. “I can’t believe you’re in my ass.”
He started moving—slow thrusts. She moaned louder. “Yes… fuck my ass, baby.”
Picked up speed. Skin slapping harder now. Her ass jiggled with each thrust. Sweat dripped down her back. He grabbed her hips, pounding. “Your ass feels amazing.”
“Harder… I want it rough.”
He gave it to her. Deep, fast. She buried her face in the pillow, muffling screams. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
He reached around, rubbing her clit. She bucked. “Gonna cum… oh god!”
She came hard, ass squeezing his cock like a vice. He couldn’t hold back. “I’m gonna cum inside you.”
“Do it… fill my ass!”
He thrust deep, unloading. Hot spurts, pulsing. Anal creampie. She moaned through it, shaking.
He pulled out slow. Cum leaked from her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. Messy, real.
She collapsed on the bed, laughing breathlessly. “Holy shit… that was intense.”
He lay beside her, pulling her close. Kissed her forehead. “You okay? Not too sore?”
“A little… but worth it.” She snuggled in. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The oven timer beeped from the kitchen—sauce probably overcooked now. She groaned. “Fuck. Dinner.”
He chuckled. “I’ll reheat it. You stay here.”
She smiled, pulling the sheet over her naked body. “Hurry back. Round two later?”
“Deal.”
He got up, pants half-on, heading to save the food. Behind him, she stretched, ass still tingling, cum slowly leaking. Just another night in their messy, loving life.

The post Real Couple First Anal Creampie – Sisi Rose Homemade POV first appeared on Hot Homemade.

Sarah had just finished loading the dishwasher after a casual Friday night dinner with her old college buddy Emily. The kitchen still smelled like garlic from the pasta they’d thrown together, plates stacked haphazardly because nobody felt like scrubbing right away. Michael was in the living room, feet up on the coffee table, scrolling his phone while some dumb action movie droned in the background—explosions and car chases nobody was really watching.
Sarah wiped her hands on a dish towel and glanced at Emily, who was leaning against the counter in those tight yoga pants she’d worn over. Emily’s cheeks were a little flushed from the wine. They’d been laughing about old stories all night, the kind that made you nostalgic and horny at the same time.
“You know,” Sarah said, lowering her voice even though Michael was only twenty feet away, “Michael’s been talking about you a lot since last time you visited.”
Emily raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh yeah? Good talking or bad talking?”
Sarah stepped closer, hips brushing Emily’s. “The kind where he says your ass looks fucking incredible in those pants.”
Emily laughed, but it came out breathy. She looked toward the living room, then back at Sarah. “And what do you think?”
Sarah’s hand slid to Emily’s lower back, fingers dipping just under the waistband. “I think he’s right. And I think tonight’s the night we stop talking about it.”
They walked into the living room together. Michael looked up, immediately catching the shift in energy. His phone hit the couch cushion.
“Everything okay in there?” he asked, voice casual but eyes already darkening.
Sarah didn’t answer with words. She pushed Emily gently toward him. Emily straddled Michael’s lap without hesitation, knees sinking into the couch on either side of his thighs. Sarah stood behind her friend, hands on Emily’s shoulders, watching her husband’s face.
Emily ground down slowly, feeling him harden under her. “Sarah says you’ve been thinking about this ass,” she murmured, rocking her hips.
Michael’s hands went straight to Emily’s cheeks, squeezing hard. “Fuck yeah I have.”
Sarah leaned in, kissing the side of Emily’s neck while reaching around to tug her tank top up. Emily’s tits spilled out—no bra, nipples already stiff from the cool air and anticipation. Michael groaned, latching onto one, sucking roughly while his other hand yanked Emily’s pants down just enough to expose her bare ass.
Sarah dropped to her knees behind them. She spread Emily’s cheeks wide, staring at her tight little hole. “God, look at this,” she whispered. Then she dove in—no teasing, just tongue flat against Emily’s asshole, licking slow circles at first, then pushing the tip inside.
Emily moaned loud, head falling back against Sarah’s shoulder. “Shit… yes, eat my ass like that.”
Michael watched over Emily’s shoulder, cock throbbing in his jeans. He unzipped, pulling himself out—thick, veiny, already leaking. Emily reached down, stroking him while Sarah rimmed her deeper, wet slurping sounds filling the room over the forgotten TV noise.
After a minute Sarah pulled back, lips shiny. “Get on all fours, Em. Face the armrest.”
Emily obeyed fast, ass up, knees spread on the couch. Michael knelt behind her, rubbing his cockhead against her soaked pussy first, coating himself. But Sarah stopped him.
“Not there,” she said, voice low and commanding. “Her ass. She’s been begging for it.”
Emily looked back, nodding eagerly. “Please. Fuck my ass, Michael. I want it.”
Sarah grabbed the lube from the side table drawer—they kept it handy these days—and squirted a thick line down Emily’s crack. She worked two fingers in slow, scissoring, stretching while Michael stroked himself and watched.
When Emily was gasping and pushing back for more, Sarah guided Michael’s cock to her hole. He pressed in steady, inch by inch. Emily hissed, then moaned deep as the head popped past her ring.
“Fuuuck,” Michael grunted. “So tight.”
Sarah stayed close, one hand rubbing Emily’s clit, the other spreading her cheeks so she could watch every thrust. Michael built speed, balls slapping against Emily’s pussy with each pump. The couch creaked under them.
Emily’s arms shook. “Harder… god, fuck my ass harder.”
Sarah climbed up, straddling Emily’s back facing Michael. She lowered her own pussy onto Emily’s mouth. Emily ate her eagerly, tongue flicking Sarah’s clit while getting railed from behind.
Michael gripped Emily’s hips, pounding deep. Sweat dripped down his chest. The room smelled like sex—musky, salty, mixed with the faint garlic from dinner.
Sarah came first, grinding down on Emily’s face, thighs clamping tight. “Yes… fuck, eat me while he fucks you.”
Emily muffled a scream into Sarah’s pussy as her own orgasm hit, ass clenching around Michael’s cock. That pushed him over.
“Gonna cum,” he growled.
“Do it inside,” Sarah ordered. “Fill her ass.”
Michael slammed in one last time, burying deep. His cock pulsed, pumping thick ropes of cum into Emily’s tight hole. Emily whimpered, feeling every spurt.
He held there a second, breathing hard, then pulled out slow. Cum leaked from her stretched asshole, dripping down her thighs.
Sarah slid off, turning to kiss Emily messy, tasting herself. Then she leaned down, licking the creampie from Emily’s ass—slow, deliberate swipes of her tongue, cleaning her friend while Michael watched, cock still twitching.
Emily collapsed forward, laughing breathlessly. “Holy shit… that was insane.”
Michael fell back on the couch, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yeah. We good?”
Sarah grinned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “We’re great. But the pasta’s probably cold now.”
Emily snorted. “Worth it.”
Sarah stood up, pulling her shorts back on. “Someone check the oven. I think I left it on low.”
Michael groaned but got up, pants still around his thighs. Emily stayed sprawled, ass up, cum still trickling out, too blissed-out to move yet.
The TV kept playing explosions in the background. Life went right back to normal—just a little stickier, a little happier.

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