Where the Boys Aren't #15 - Part 2

Two gay mechanics chicks are going at it hard in the back office of the auto shop, and one of them’s mixed. They don’t wait, just climb on the desk. The white one shoves paperwork off, pops the buttons on her coveralls and the other girl yanks the rest down, skin hitting air. Dark fingers slip straight into wet pussy—no tease—and she hooks them hard, hitting every spot she knows. The mixed chick answers fast, spits on two fingers and pushes deep, finding her rhythm against moans that fill the small room. They spread wide on that chipped-up desk, legs dangling, oil-smudged thighs flexing. Tongues work, lips wrap around swollen clits, loud and wet, the kind of sucking you don’t hold back on. Then she swaps, flicks fast over the stiff little bud while fingers keep pumping, juice dripping down onto the concrete. Knees shake, breath catches, and when it hits they both go stiff, mouths open, hips rocking into the other’s face. It’s quick, nasty, the kind of orgasm that leaves everything slick and messy. One curls, grinds against the other’s palm a second longer, making sure she gets every wave. A wrench clock ticks overhead while they catch their breath, still spread, still dripping on the desk.