Sara Loves Sammie

Sara Luvv doesn’t bother waiting. She meets Sammie’s mouth with her own, grabs two fistfuls of that tiny body and pushes her down to the bed. Tiny or not, she wants her open. She spreads the petite cheeks herself, stares for one hungry second, then goes straight for her asshole. Licks flat, broad, wet. Circles the rim, presses the point of her tongue inside. Sammie squirms, but the sound she makes is low and needy. Sara keeps her there, holds the hips down, and goes back in, deeper this time. Fingers join next. The smallest one slides through the spit, sinks to the first knuckle, then two. Sammie’s hole tightens around them—sweet, reluctant, greedy. Sara gives her more spit, more pressure, waits until the ring gives way completely. She fucks her with her tongue, switches to a slim glass plug, watches it disappear until only the flared base remains. She flips over, shoves the same plug into her own ass, then lays back and pulls Sammie’s head between her legs. “My turn.” Sammie sucks on Sara’s clit while the plug bobs with every movement. When she’s slick and ready, Sara replaces the glass with her own hand—two fingers, then three, twisting slowly, keeping her stretched. She moans until it breaks into something rougher. Back between Sammie’s legs now, two soaked fingers deep in her ass. She pumps them hard, curled, driving every thrust against the hidden spot inside. Sammie jolts, clenches, then explodes. Her thighs lock. A full-body spasm rolls through her—muscles rippling around Sara’s fingers, cries high and sharp. Sara keeps thrusting through the orgasm, drawing it out, until the trembling stops. She lets the fingers slide free, licks them once, and kisses Sammie’s spent hole. Eyes flick up to the camera, pupils blown, bottom lip wet. “Watch what we do next.”