Darling and Chanta-Rose

Darling sits behind the desk, already fucking up the schedule. Chanta doesn't wait for excuses. She yanks her out by the hair and throws her over the desk like last week's trash. The first shock hits between Darling's thighs and she jerks like she's been branded. Chanta just laughs, slides the prod higher, lets the current dance along wet skin until Darling's legs shake and she can't hold still. Every mistake gets punished twice. Chanta kicks her heels off, shoves her bare foot against Darling's mouth. "Lick," she says. Darling does, tongue working between toes while her wrists get cuffed behind her back and the strap-on gets buckled on. Chanta doesn't warm her up. She lines up and pushes straight in, stretching that tight hole until it gives with a wet sound that makes them both groan. Darling's tits swing heavy under her as Chanta fucks her deeper, pulling out just long enough to watch the gape, then driving back in harder. The current snaps again when Darling tries to come without permission. She screams into the desk and comes anyway, shaking, dripping down her own thighs while Chanta keeps pounding like she owns every inch.