Gooner Fetish

Sheena Shaw and Aiden Starr look like they fell out of a fever dream dressed in deep, punishing black and violet. Aiden's heavy tits strain against her lingerie, threatening to escape with every breath. Sheena's vinyl leotard clings like wet paint across her waist and hips, every movement making it squeak. The Gooner behind the camera shifts in his seat, dick already throbbing, but the two women shut him down fast. No release. Not for him. Aiden leans forward and drags her hands over the swell of her breasts, letting the weight spill out. She cups them, squeezes them, then yanks them free and shoves the warm, swaying flesh right at the lens. Sheena buries her face between them like she's starving. Aiden laughs and smothers her, letting both soft globes drop across Sheena's cheeks and mouth. "You're lucky just to beat off to this," Sheena mutters, voice thick with spit and perfume. Then it's Sheena's turn. She leans in and mouths Aiden's stockinged feet, biting through the thin nylon to get her lips around the freshly painted toes. Aiden presses her soles against Sheena's face, sliding the ball of her foot across her nose and lips, trapping her. Their toes tangle together, twenty painted nails flexing in the air—blue, pink, glossy. Then Aiden pins Sheena's head between her thighs and grinds slow and hard, rubbing her cunt against Sheena's trapped face, the scent thick and warm and unmistakable.