Avery Jane Vs Avery Black

Avery Black walks in, small, black hair catching the light. Avery Jane follows, hips rolling with that weight behind her, and they stare each other down. The bell barely rings before they tangle. Bodies slapping, fingers digging. One minute Jane’s on top, mouth on Black’s nipple, sucking hard, the next round Black’s got Jane’s thick thigh pinned and two fingers buried inside her, working fast. Back and forth, round after round, neither giving ground. Sweat runs between their tits and they grind like the strap-on at the end matters more than air. By round three the score’s dead even, so they push into the tie-breaker. Both on their backs, mouths full of the other, hips bucking, the wet slap of tongues loud in the quiet. Jane’s been wet since the first bell, so she breaks first, shaking and cursing as she comes. She barely catches her breath before Black shoves her down, stands over her, arms flexed, and pushes the thick strap between Jane’s lips. “Open,” she spits, fist in Jane’s hair, fucking her throat while she tells her how pathetic she looks choking on it. Then she bends Jane over, grips that fat ass, and fucks her deep, yanking her head back, every thrust punctuated with another taunt until Jane’s knees give out.