Vagablonde - Part 3

Janine came from a small town in the Midwest, but Malibu splashed her straight into blue water and bluer women. Leslie Glass looked ripped from a centerfold: long legs, hungry mouth, no hesitation. They didn’t bother with talk. Clothes hit the floor, and the heat rose fast. Tongues slid deep, hips ground slick. Janine found her rhythm—fingers buried, mouth working Leslie’s swollen clit until thighs clamped and she cried out. Leslie pushed back hard, spreading Janine wide, licking her open, sucking and stroking until they both shook. Sweat, slick cunt, shared breaths; they kept going, switch after switch, until every inch of them burned and the room smelled like sex.