Petite journalist gangbanged into a gaping anal slut!

Mercy West looks like a wet dream gone wrong—tiny frame, real tits, zero ink. Five guys circle her like they’ve been waiting their whole lives for this exact body. The 70s locker room smells like sweat, chlorine, and trouble. She came here to chase a story; now she’s the story, naked, bent over, and about to learn what happens when the whole team stops playing by any rules. Coach spots the tits first. Then he flips her around, palm cracking down on that tight little ass until it’s red and stinging. “Tell ’em what you are.” Mercy’s voice shakes, but the words never make it out before someone shoves a dick between her lips. Another slaps across her cheek, leaving spit trails that stretch and snap. They keep feeding her until every breath drags strings of saliva down her chin. Hands flip her, spin her, drop her straight onto thick cocks. One sinks into her ass so fast she yelps; another pushes in beside it, stretching her open until the rim is pink and pulsing. They trade her like she weighs nothing—lifted, tossed, slammed back down onto whoever’s ready next. Her tiny body jerks between them, and every time they pull out her hole stays wide, a perfect shiny gape winking at the camera. Mercy stops pretending to resist. She reaches back, spreads herself, begs for more. The guys answer by filling both holes at once, pounding until the slaps echo off the tiles. She’s gone—eyes glassy, mouth open, drooling around whatever dick they shove between her teeth. They save the finish for last. Mercy ends up on her knees, tongue out, while five heavy loads paint her face, hair, and open mouth. Thick streaks slide down her neck and drip off her nipples. By the time they’re done, she’s glazed, wrecked, and smiling like the story she came for just got written all over her skin.