Girls In White #012 003

Angela dragged the dress back to Veronica’s place like it weighed ten pounds. Stood up. Again. Cherie had promised silk sheets and champagne, left her hanging instead. Veronica took one look at the slump in her shoulders and pulled the zipper on the tight black thing. Angela’s skin spilled out—soft tits, hips that flared sharp. Veronica didn’t bother with sympathy. She shoved her onto the bed, flipped that dress aside, spread those legs like they were already open. Fingers slick, tongue busy, Angela’s moans got loud enough to rattle the walls. Veronica climbed on top, ground wet heat against wet heat, hips rolling mean and steady. Angela grabbed her ass, nails digging, chasing every thrust until her whole body snapped. They didn’t stop till the sheets were ruined and the ache of the no-show was gone.