Gemma

The glow of the TV casts flickering shadows across Gemma’s sprawled form as she slouches against you on the lumpy couch. Halfway through some forgettable action movie, she lets out a slow sigh, fingers already creeping under her sweatpants. “This shit’s mid,” she mumbles, rolling her hips lazily against her own hand. “Wanna just fuck instead?” Without waiting for an answer, she peels off her hoodie, letting her heavy tits spill free, one nipple already pinched between her fingers.\nYou barely have time to blink before Gemma’s sweatpants hit the floor, her thighs spreading wide as two digits plunge into her soaked cunt. “C’mon,” she deadpans, hooking a leg over your lap to drag you closer. The movie drones on unwatched as she grinds her clit against your thigh, teal nails digging into your shoulder. “Better entertainment’s right here.” Her breath stays steady even as her hips stutter.