The Campaign Trail

Celeste Star swings into the Senator's office armed with receipts and a sharp memory for scandal. Angela Sommers denies using campaign funds for anything more sinful than back-alley bribery. The accusation could cost her the election, so she buys time with something darker. She spreads the file on her rival's daughter, bright, bruised photos included. Celeste's mouth dries when she sees them. Right then the door opens, Trinity St. Clair gliding in with oils and a smirk. “Time to relax,” Angela tells the reporter, inviting her onto the table. Celeste strips slowly, goose-flesh rising under their cool eyes, but the promise of another secret keeps her there. Oil-slick hands dig in. Trinity's touch loosens her morals. Celeste can write the exposé later. She lets her head drop, sighs turning to low moans as Angela leans across the table and seals her mouth to Trinity's. It all snaps into place: the Senator fuck one thing, a bitch they break later. Celeste could expose them both. Instead she spreads wider, lets tongues lick down her thighs and find her cunt. Three bodies slide over one another in graceless need, tongues trading slick, flesh grinding. Legs tangle, fingers slip between folds, each stroke a fresh surrender. Climax arrives fast, messy, and entirely non-partisan, leaving them slick and spent against the leather upholstery of the senator's war-room.