Trina and Daphne

Trina Michaels is on her knees, heavy tits hanging, hands locked behind her back. Daphne Rosen stands over her, blonde hair pulled tight, leather harness digging into her own thick curves. The first slap cracks across Trina’s cheek and she opens wide. Daphne spits straight into her mouth, then drives two fingers between Trina’s lips, fucking her throat until spit runs down those fat tits. She yanks Trina forward by the hair and bends her over the bench. A thick strap-on is already slick. Daphne spreads Trina’s ass, spits again, and pushes the head inside. Trina’s moan breaks into a choke when Daphne slams the rest home. No warm-up. Just deep, punishing strokes that make Trina’s cheeks shake. Daphne grabs a fistful of tit and twists, using it like a handle while she pounds Trina’s hole open. The bench creaks. Sweat drips. Trina’s wrists are still cuffed, nipples dragging against the leather. Daphne leans in, teeth at Trina’s ear. “You asked for this.” She pulls out, slaps the wet shaft against Trina’s gaping ass, then shoves it back in harder. Trina’s legs tremble. Daphne keeps driving until Trina’s cries turn raw and her thighs shake with every thrust.