The 75 Nurse Orgy - Part 13

Two nurses lingered in the empty break room, still in their scrubs. One pressed the other against the counter, hands greedy, working past waistbands and cotton until fingers found slick heat. The fabric clung, damp and heavy between open thighs, and every slow stroke pulled a shared gasp. They ground together, fabric darkening where their wetness soaked through. Heels scuffed against linoleum. Breath hitched, quickened. One slid to her knees, tongue parting soft folds as the other braced back, fingers tight in hair. The clock above the door kept its steady tick while each subtle sound—the wet slide, the stifled moan—told the story of bodies that knew exactly what they wanted and how to take it.