Dyke Bar 2: Lorelei Lee Devoured by Hot Horny Lesbians!

Mistress Kara locks the bar doors. She catches Cherry Torn’s eye across the dark room. They’ve done this before. Lorelei Lee is already straddling the stool, lips locked with Cherry, tongues sliding, hands buried in hair. Kara nods once to Daisy Ducati. The two women close in. Cherry steps aside just enough for Kara to snake an arm around Lorelei’s waist, pulling her off the seat. Daisy is already working the buttons on Lorelei’s jeans, tugging denim and cotton down in one rough yank. Lorelei’s breath catches when the cool air hits her skin. Daisy plants a palm between her shoulders and bends her over the padded bar. The first slap lands hard, open-handed, leaving a red print across pale flesh. Lorelei moans. That’s all the invitation Kara needs. She pulls a leather flogger from the shelf behind the register, trails the tails down Lorelei’s spine, then snaps it across both cheeks in quick succession. Lorelei jolts forward, straight into Daisy’s waiting fist. Daisy’s knuckles press, twist, slide knuckle-deep. Lorelei’s thighs shake. She pushes back, greedy for more. Cherry climbs onto the bar top, spreads her legs, and pulls Lorelei’s face between them. The first lick is soft, almost shy, but Cherry grabs a fistful of blonde hair and grinds down hard. Lorelei’s tongue works faster, tasting slick heat while Daisy’s fingers curl inside her cunt, stretching, stroking that swollen ridge until Lorelei’s knees buckle. Kara doesn’t wait. She clips leather cuffs around Lorelei’s wrists, snaps them to the bar rail. Lorelei is pinned, ass up, mouth full. Kara steps into the harness already strapped to her hips, thick silicone cock slick with lube. She presses the head to Lorelei’s asshole, slow at first, then shoves forward in one steady thrust. Lorelei cries out, the sound muffled by Cherry’s cunt. Daisy frees her own strap-on, lines up beneath Lorelei’s dripping pussy, and pushes in until the two shafts fill the girl completely. They find a rhythm, one thrusting deep while the other pulls back, working Lorelei between them. Every slap of skin echoes off the empty bar. Lorelei’s muffled screams turn to frantic whimpers, then to raw, broken pleas. Cherry’s thighs clamp tighter. She rocks against Lorelei’s mouth, riding her tongue until her own orgasm rips through her, soaking Lorelei’s chin. Kara follows next, hips snapping hard as she buries the strap deep in Lorelei’s ass, muscles locking. Daisy shudders last, grinding the base of her cock against her clit, coming with a low, guttural growl. They don’t stop. Kara yanks the cuffs free, flips Lorelei onto her back across the bar. Daisy straddles her face now, wet cunt pressed to Lorelei’s mouth while Kara drives the strap back into her pussy, slow and deliberate. Cherry’s fingers find Lorelei’s clit, rubbing tight circles until Lorelei arches, breaks, comes hard enough to shake the bottles on the shelf. The bar smells like sweat and leather and sex. Lorelei lies there, wrists marked, thighs trembling, mouth slick, eyes glassy. Kara leans down, drags her tongue across Lorelei’s lower lip, tasting Cherry’s come. “Round two starts when you can stand up straight,” Kara says. Lorelei doesn’t answer. She just smiles.