Pillé a mi esposa masturbándose y terminé teniendo sexo y corriéndome encima de ella en el sofá de la sala – PORNO EN ESPAÑOL

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, the kind where the sun’s rays filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the living room. Juan sat on the sofa, his laptop open, watching a soccer match. Laughter from a commercial on TV mingled with the commentary from the game. His wife, María, was out running errands, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

As the game went to halftime, Juan found his mind wandering. He thought about his wife and the way her jeans hugged her curves, how her laugh lit up the room. A sudden pang of desire surged through him. He knew María would be gone for a while. An idea began to form.

Juan headed upstairs to their bedroom, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He stripped off his T-shirt and jeans, leaving himself in just his boxers. Then, he positioned himself on the bed, leaned back against the pillows, and opened his laptop. Luckily, the camera was web-ready, always on, just in case.

Feeling naughty and a bit nervous, but driven by desire, Juan began to caress himself through his boxers, watching himself on camera. His wife, after all, was a bit of a voyeur, and he knew she would enjoy seeing what he was up to when she returned home.

Juan continued to stimulate himself, changing positions on the bed, making sure the camera caught every angle. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it when he heard the front door creak open. His heart skipped a beat, a thrill running through him at being caught. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, slowing as they approached the bedroom.

The door swung open, and there stood María, her eyes wide, mouth agape. Juan froze, his hand mid-stroke, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, a grin split her face. “Well, well, well,” she purred, closing the door behind her. “Seems like I came home at just the right time.”

Juan’s tension melted away, replaced by a surge of arousal as he watched María shed her coat and kick off her shoes. She crawled onto the bed, stalking towards him like a predator eyeing its prey. “You’ve been a naughty boy,” she growled playfully. “But I like naughty boys.”

Juan’s breath caught in his throat as María straddled him, her skirt riding up to reveal the lacy edge of her panties. She leaned down, her hair falling around them like a curtain, and captured his lips in a searing kiss. Juan moaned into her mouth, his hands roaming her curves.

They moved together in a frenzy of touch and passion, clothes flying off and landing haphazardly around the room. When they were both bare, María sat up, straddling Juan’s hips. She looked down at him, her eyes dark with desire, and reached back to position him at her entrance. Slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto him, engulfing him in her heat.

Juan’s breath hissed out of him at the sensation, his hands flying to her hips. María began to move, rising and falling, setting a slow, sensual pace. Her breasts bounced with each movement, and Juan couldn’t resist the temptation to lean up and take a nipple into his mouth.

María let out a low moan, encouraging his actions with her motions. She picked up the pace, riding him harder, her nails digging into his shoulders. Juan met her thrust for thrust, driving into her, matching her need.

Their coupling grew more passionate, more intense. The sound of their bodies coming together, punctuated by their moans and gasps, filled the room. Juan could feel his climax building, his muscles tensing, his breath coming in short pants.

With a cry, Juan came undone, spilling himself inside María as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. María followed quickly, shuddering and moaning his name as she found her own release. They clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks, chests heaving, skin slick with sweat.

After a moment, María collapsed onto the bed next to Juan, both of them staring up at the ceiling, grinning like fools. “Well,” she said, breathless, “that was certainly an interesting way to come home.”

Juan laughed, rolling onto his side to face her. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly. “But I think I might just keep the camera on from now on. You never know what could happen.”

María giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “Oh, I like the way you think,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But maybe next time, I’ll be the one behind the camera.”

And with that promise, they snuggled closer together under the covers, the heat of their bodies mingling, the camera recording every quiet, sated moment.