Last Girl Standing - Part 8

Two voluptuous blondes sprawl across satin sheets, fingers slick with their own heat. One spreads the other wider, presses three fingers deep inside, twisting until that tight cunt yields. Wet sounds echo. A gasp. A moan that cracks the silence. The second leans in, tongue lapping over swollen folds, lips sealing around a throbbing clit while her hand keeps pumping. Back arches. Thighs tremble. The first comes hard, walls pulsing against those thrusting fingers. They trade places. Each takes her turn—mouth sealed to the other, tasting, sucking, drinking every drop of slick before they reach for the harness. Straps bite into soft hips. The dildo juts, gleaming with lube. One girl braces on elbows, ass lifted. The other grips, presses, and drives the strap-on home in one slow, unyielding thrust. The room fills with the slap of flesh and broken breath as she fucks that ass deeper, harder, the toy disappearing to the hilt with each snap of her hips.