Ariel X, Annie Cruz, Princess Donna Dolore and Harmony

Harmony’s been waiting her whole life to get taken and broken. I’m the type who doesn’t let a girl’s filthy daydream sit untouched. I gave her the works. She’s stranded on an empty road, car dead in the snow, soaked through, shaking, nothing around but white silence. She thinks help is coming. What she gets is the side door sliding open, gloved hands yanking her inside. The van smells like leather and lust. Princess Donna, Ariel, and Annie are already waiting. Blonde hair, black eyes, brown skin—three different flavors of mean. They don’t waste time with talk. Harmony’s coat gets torn, her shirt pulled up, tits out to the cold air, nipples tight. Donna ties her wrists fast, cord biting into skin. Ariel spreads her legs and starts working her ass with slick fingers. Annie’s got a strap already buckled on, thick and black. She pushes in dry at first, forces every inch while Harmony’s breath fogs the windows. Snow hisses under the tires. The girls keep her pinned and open, taking turns on her asshole until she’s shaking harder from the fucking than from the cold. Every thrust slams her forward; every slap of skin echoes in the tight metal box. She came looking for rescue. She found exactly what she asked for.