Delicate Emotions in sexmom and son

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in sexmom and son. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In sexmom and son, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for sexmom and son. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in sexmom and son; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in sexmom and son is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.