Ass Leverage

Spencer Scott is staring at a dead schedule, the marathon outside has chased off every client. Then Leah Gotti limps through the door, clutching her thigh. Spencer knows the look—hamstring strain, same as runners get every year. Money is money, so she sighs, points Leah to the table, peels off her shoes and starts on the soles of her feet. Leah murmurs that the pain sits higher. Spencer waits, arms folded, until the blonde peels off her shorts and sports bra, bare curves filling the room. She works the glutes with steady palms and elbows, then slides a bolster under Leah’s hips so that round ass lifts. One thumb slips between parted lips, finds the slick heat inside. Spencer leans in and drags her tongue across Leah’s tight little hole, tasting salt and sweat. The girl shudders, comes hard, thighs trembling. Spencer climbs on the table, swings a thigh over Leah’s mouth and grinds her own soaked pussy against the blonde’s tongue. They rock together, trading wet, hungry strokes, until both of them break again, loud and shaking.