The Bad Luck Betties - Part 3

You're backed against chipped white tile in a dim truck-stop bathroom. She drops to her knees and swallows you whole—lips gripping tight as lipstick smears along your shaft and every hurried suck turns wetter. Slobber strands snap when she comes up for air; chin shiny, nipples tight under a sweat-darkened tank. Steam hisses from the cracked sink as you spin her, yank those cut-offs to the floor. Her bare ass meets cold porcelain when you lift her onto the sink edge. Legs wrap. She pulls you in until your balls slap her cheeks with every thrust. Plumbing rattles. Mirrors fog. The unmistakable suck of skin slapping skin echoes over the drip of a leaking faucet. She rides out the orgasm so hard the plastic door rattles in its frame. You flood her, pull back, watch the thick load spill down her thighs. Door clicks. You both grin like you just got away with something.