ATM bitches

Angelica had never taken anything there. Jake spread her open on the couch, ran his tongue once over her crack, and she tightened her toes. He didn’t hesitate: pulled out, fed the head back inside her mouth, watched her cheeks hollow around it. She pushed her own hair away, kept sucking while his thumb kept circling the rim she’d just offered. Every few strokes he swapped again; once to suck, once to stretch. She shivered, spit sliding down her thigh, and the second time felt easier. By the third, she was reaching back to pull herself wider, mouth hanging open for whatever he brought her. They flipped her between them, one set of lips on his cock, the other tongue-swiping from hole to balls until the whole couch smelled like salt and sweat. When he finally shot inside her, the load ran out hot and heavy. Kayla leaned in, tongue first, scooping it out slow, then fed it back to Angelica in a long, filthy kiss.