Backstage with Eve Angel and Eve Smile

Officer Eve runs her hands along the hooker's legs, pressing fingers hard against the warm skin of her inner thighs. She works her way up, feeling every soft fold through thin fabric, the heat between the woman's legs unmistakable. A glint in the hooker's eyes. Eve yanks the order out, her voice cutting low: "Strip." Clothes fall to the floor. Naked, the woman stands under the cold lights. Eve snaps on gloves, grips her truncheon, and presses the blunt tip to slick lips. She works it inside with slow, deliberate pressure. The hooker's knees buckle, a gasp breaking free, then a moan that echoes off the tile. Eve watches, pulse hammering in her throat, the truncheon sinking deeper with each push while the woman rocks against the intrusion, desperate for more.