BLOWBANG 383 WITH LADY LAZ

Lady Laz pulled her knees apart on the studio floor, the camera catching the flash of blackwork ink that crawled from her collarbone down to the tops of her thighs. Six guys circled her, hands already on their cocks. She looked up once—eyes gleaming with that challenge-smirk she wore like lipstick—then opened her mouth and took the first thick head between her lips without ceremony. Spit hit her chin quick. Another cock slid along her cheek, smearing warm across the tattooed script running toward her ear. She gripped two shafts at once, working them in rhythm while the third guy drove deeper and hit the back of her throat. Gagging came fast, tears streaking her mascara. Hands tangled in her hair, tugging so her throat opened wider. She took it, tongue flicking the underside each time a guy bottomed out. Thick veins pulsed against her grip, hot and heavy, the kind that left her palm sticky. One after another they slapped their cocks across her cheek, across the spread of her tits, dragging the ridges of their heads through the spit already slick on her skin. The air smelled like sweat and sex. She arched, nipples hard, knees parting wider every time another dick pushed past her lips. Every wet sound—slurp, choke, grunt—cut through the low buzz of the lights overhead. Her hand moved faster now, pumping two at once while the third filled her throat again, and the guys started to tighten, breathing heavier, hips jerking sharper, balls drawing tight under her fingers.