Like A Boss!

Charlotte's tight designer pussy barely knows what hit it when Penny straps up. One second the spoiled sorority queen is ordering grades like she orders drinks. Next, that nerdy little redhead's pushing ten thick inches between those gold-trimmed lips. Charlotte's eyes go wide, the first real emotion she's ever shown outside a mirror. Shame, fear, lust—they flash across her face quick as the wet squelch of rubber splitting her open. She tries to mouth something condescending. Penny shoves deeper and the words die in a strangled moan. Penny works the toy like she wrote the manual: deliberate angle, brutal rhythm, zero hesitation. Charlotte's silk skirt bunches around her waist. Her manicured nails scratch marks into Penny's shoulders, leaving streaks of flawless polish against freckled skin. They switch angles quick. Missionary on the library table. Charlotte's knees pinned to her shoulders. Cowgirl on the stained carpet. Penny gripping her ass, forcing that perfect body down until clit meets harness. Reverse on the same bed where textbooks usually land unopened. Each thrust pushes air out of Charlotte in these sharp little gasps—half sob, half plea—until they're slick, shivering, ruined. Charlotte cums first, whole body seizing, juices spilling over the toy. Penny keeps grinding, dragging it out until the queen starts babbling half-finished threats that sound like prayers. A second spike hits—wet, sudden, loud—then another. They lose count. By the end both girls are sweat-soaked, breath ragged, legs tangled, the strap-on discarded like expensive trash next to scattered pages.