GangBang Creampie 343

Apryl Rein owns the stage like it's hers to fuck. She stretches out on the velvet drape, thick thighs spread wide, letting the audience drink in every inch of her waxed pussy glistening under the lights. Slick fingers work her clit in slow circles while the house lights dim and the crowd quiets. She moans loud, shameless. I slide between her legs, yank her hips forward, and bury my face in that soaked heat. Taste her deep. Her heels dig into my shoulders. Then I flip her over, slap a palm down on that ass, split her cheeks and lick her there too, tongue working filthy and greedy. Spit drips. She arches, gasping. Next move: three fingers knuckle-deep in her cunt, pumping hard while my free hand reaches to her throat, just enough pressure to make her melt. She bucks back onto every thrust, voice cracking into short, wet cries. The show hits another gear when she climbs on top, grinds her cunt along the thick ridge of my cock through my pants, and leaves a wet streak like a badge of honor. Panting. Smiling. Climbing back, sinking down and letting every swollen inch stretch her open until her thighs shake and her lips part around obscene, guttural sounds. Bounce, squeeze, grind harder. Sweat rolls. Her hair sticks to her temples. I grab those hips, nail the spot she needs, and the rhythm turns messier—faster, louder, a raw slap of skin that echoes past the last row. She cums sudden and vicious, muscles clenching, gushing over my cock, lashes fluttering. One more flick of pressure and I follow, hips stuttering as I fill her tight. Dripping, heavy breathing, a filthy grin at the standing ovation. Another round starts in ten.