Lesbian Triangles #05

After the kind of sex that left her thighs trembling and her mouth still tasting of Deauxma, Lone Star slipped away to fetch her strap-on for another round. She was barely out of sight when Shayna Storm found her cornered, breath hot on her neck, one hand already reaching. Deauxma appeared like instinct, knuckles flashing, and just like that Shayna was gone—door shut, breathing hard. Gratitude rushed through Lone Star, fierce and quick. She dropped to her knees, slipped the leather harness up her hips, buckled it snug, and crawled forward until the thick toy pressed between Deauxma’s legs. The older woman spread for her, voice low, hips already lifting. Lone Star slicked the length once, pressed in, and gave her slow, deliberate thrusts—each one driven by pure, concentrated thanks. Deauxma arched, moaned, hands fisting the sheets, while Lone Star fucked her deeper, every stroke saying what words never could.