The Punishment Fits The Crime

Dolly Leigh sits on the security desk, lips locked with Sarah Vandella. Her tongue slides against the blonde’s mouth, lazy, deliberate. Fingers fumble the buttons on Sarah’s uniform until heavy breasts spill free. Dolly drops to her knees, licks the pale flesh, then lower, parting the wet folds she finds there. She eats like she’s starving. Sarah’s thighs clamp around her head. Her hips jerk. Cum floods Dolly’s tongue—wet, hot, endless. Sarah drags Dolly upright. She spins her around, spreads her open on the desk, and works two thick fingers inside that tight, clenching cunt. Every stroke drags a wet sound from the girl. Dolly comes twice—sharp, gasping—legs shaking, cunt fluttering. Sarah doesn’t stop. She straps the heavy dildo between her hips, pushes the blunt head between Dolly’s slick lips, and sinks in deep. The rhythm is brutal. Each thrust jars the desk. Dolly’s cries break. Her whole body bows as one rolling climax after another rips through her. In the security office the crime is long forgotten; the wet slap of skin on skin answers louder than any alarm.