Soft Temptations in humping my wife

Private jet at 30,000 feet in humping my wife. Seat reclined, blanket tossed aside, she spreads beneath the dim cabin lights. “Join the mile-high humping my wife club,” she purrs to the camera, already three fingers deep. Turbulence rocks the plane and her body in perfect sync; every bump drives her hand harder while she gasps “Yes humping my wife, just like that humping my wife!” Clouds rush past the window as she rubs her clit raw, chanting “humping my wife” louder with altitude. When the captain announces descent she comes hardest, squirting over leather and crying “humping my wife” into the thin air until the seatbelt sign dings like an aftershock.