The Underdog

Puma Swede owned the block. The guards didn't intimidate her and the other women steered clear. Long legs, attitude, she walked like the place already belonged to her. When Phoenix started shoving her around the cell, the rest of the block placed their bets fast. They figured the blonde would win easy. Instead, Puma pressed her shoulders flat against the mattress, mouth working between those long thighs, tongue parting slick folds with deliberate pressure. Phoenix tried to keep the fight alive but her hips betrayed her, rolling forward to meet each slow lap. Puma pinned her wrists above her head, never breaking rhythm, pushing deeper until Phoenix's thighs trembled and she stopped swearing and started moaning instead.