Finally the teen got bold and rode her cousin’s big dick

The flaquita had been eyeing her cousin’s vergota all night—drinks, laughter, that smirk. When the party died down, she straddled him without a word. No teasing, no blush—just raw, greedy heat. Her panochita clamped down as she sentones hard, moaning his name like a prayer. He gripped her hips, growling, 'That’s it, morrita—take it all.' The bed creaked. The door stayed shut. No one came to check. She wasn’t asking permission anymore.