Freya Frisky For Katrina

Freya Parker and Katrina Colt lock eyes like they already know how this ends. Freya drops back on the bed, legs open, and Katrina climbs on top, shifting until her cunt hovers over Freya’s mouth. She lowers slowly, grinding down until Freya’s tongue meets wet heat. Katrina rocks forward, riding the mouth under her, breath catching every time Freya’s tongue drags over her clit. Down below, Freya’s fingers work between her own thighs, two digits pumping deep, the wet sound mixing with Katrina’s low moans. Katrina leans in, finds Freya’s pussy, slips her own fingers inside, and the two of them fuck each other with hands and tongues. Sweat beads on skin. Hips jerk harder. Freya’s thighs tremble. Katrina’s breath goes ragged. Their orgasms hit quick and sharp, bodies clenching, both women coming with stifled cries while their fingers stay buried deep.