Squirting Babes

Katrina Colt has Ryan Keely pinned on her back, legs spread wide. Their mouths crash together—wet, hungry, no patience. Katrina's hand works between Ryan's thighs, rubbing her slick folds in tight circles until the sheets dampen beneath her. Ryan's hips roll into the touch. She lets out a low, broken sound when Katrina slips two fingers inside her without warning. The room smells like sweat and arousal. Katrina's mouth trails lower, lips brushing Ryan's nipples before she sucks one hard enough to make her gasp. Her fingers never stop pumping, curling, seeking. Ryan's thighs tremble when Katrina adds a third finger and grinds the heel of her palm against her swollen clit. "Fuck—don't stop," Ryan breathes. Her voice cracks. Katrina smiles against her skin, teeth dragging along her breast before she shifts lower still. She spreads Ryan open with both hands, takes one slow lick through her folds, then buries her tongue deep. Ryan's back arches clean off the bed. Her cunt clenches around nothing, then flutters when Katrina moans into her, the vibration sending heat straight through her core. Ryan's fingers twist in Katrina's hair, holding her there. She rides her face with messy, desperate rolls of her hips. Every lap of Katrina's tongue draws another gush of wetness that coats her chin. Katrina works two fingers back inside her while she sucks on her clit, lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing. Ryan swears loudly, thighs clamping around her head. The wet sounds fill the space between them—filthy, constant, loud. Ryan comes hard, her whole body jerking. Katrina doesn't pull away. She keeps licking through the aftershocks, drinking every pulse, every fresh spill that leaks down Ryan's ass. Only when Ryan tugs her up by the hair does she rise, mouth shiny, breathing hard. Their eyes lock. Ryan drags her down for a kiss, tasting herself on Katrina's tongue, already reaching between her legs to return the favor.