Rebel Rhyder in Championship Season Step Sister Gangbang

Cory sat on the bench, bar across her thighs, breathing hard. The steel plates rattled when she set it down. Rebel stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. She hardly got three words out before Cory grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Their mouths crashed together—wet, fast, no greeting left between them. Cory pushed Rebel’s shirt up. No hesitation. Her palms rubbed over the pale swell of Rebel’s tits, thumbs circling the tight, dark nipples. Her tongue followed, licking, then sucking, spit shining across each peak. She yanked her own shirt off next, skin to skin in the heavy light of the weight room. They tore at the rest of their clothes. Rebel sank back on the bench, legs wide, shaved pussy glistening under the fluorescent hum. She slipped two fingers in, hips shifting, rubbing her clit with quick jerks. Cory took over—replaced Rebel’s hand with her own, knuckles already slick. She pumped until Rebel’s back arched and a short, guttural moan broke free. Cory peeled off her shorts, climbed onto the bench, ass high, knees braced on the padded edge. Back arched, she rocked until Rebel’s tongue found her clit, licking broad and wet while two fingers slid deep inside. Rebel’s jaw worked fast; the muscles in Cory’s thighs jumped every time she sucked harder. She came sharp, breath stuttering, a streak of spit running down her inner thigh. The bench creaked when they switched positions. Legs tangled—ankles crossed, cunts pressed together, rubbing, sliding, slick flesh meeting in frantic lines. Hips snapped. Labias ground. The sound was wet and filthy. Moans blended—higher, louder—until both of them shook through another orgasm, sweat dripping onto the vinyl. The door opened again. Brickzilla filled the frame, cock already swinging heavy. “Think you can take three today?” Cory’s voice was low, sharp as a snapped weight belt. Rebel only nodded, cheeks flushed.