Prison Babes

Cherie Deville sat behind those cold bars, all golden hair and heavy tits, when Karlee Grey walked in. Young. Dark. Ready. The teen slid her fingers over the older woman’s thigh and found her dripping before she even reached the source. She teased her—light circles, the brush of knuckles—until Cherie’s hips twitched with need. Then tongues met slick skin. Fingers pumped deep. The two traded places on the narrow cot, mouths locked to cunts, moaning loud enough to echo down the corridor. Cherie’s hunger had sharpened behind steel doors; she couldn’t get enough of that tight, sweet flesh. They worked each other faster, wetter, harder—until the finish hit like a detonation, bodies locked, thighs shaking, the whole cell reeking of come.