The Art of Older Women: Part Four

Abby Cross lands the gig of a lifetime. Interview the wife of Biggie Deville, the mobster who’s ruled this city like a king until the Feds finally cage him. His wife Cherie is the star witness. One word from her and Biggie rots behind bars for good. Abby knocks. The door flies open. Cherie’s eyes are wild. “Who the fuck are you?” They scramble upstairs. Cherie slams the blinds shut and hisses the truth—Abby’s already in too deep just walking through the door. Cameras in the bedroom, eyes everywhere. Too late to leave, too late to pretend this meeting never happened. They need an alibi, and the only one that’ll fly is the two of them naked and fucking like they’ve known each other for years. Abby’s head spins. She came to ask questions; now she’s Cherie’s obedient little lesbian prop. Cherie yanks Abby’s black panties down and buries her tongue in soaked pussy, lapping like a woman starved. Abby’s moan cuts through the silence. Cherie spins, spreads, orders Abby to eat her ass—every wet crevice, nothing faked. Abby seals her mouth over Cherie’s holes and sucks until her jaw aches. Cherie climbs on top. They grind—pussies sliding, clits thick and throbbing, slick skin slapping with every thrust. Abby begs to come, voice cracking, hips jerking. She spills hot and messy over Cherie’s cunt while the cameras roll, recording every thrust, every cry. Morning light. Abby walks out, legs shaky, phone to her ear. “Interview went fine,” she tells her boss. “Better than I expected.”