Foreign Terriority - Poppy Morgan

Poppy walked in calling bullshit on the whole idea. A British girl fresh from the plane, she laughed when someone mentioned machines. Then Holly and Katja talked her ear off about the orgasms they’d had, and the lure of real double penetration sealed it. Hard to find two steady cocks attached to guys who won’t quit. She sat back, legs spread, and worked two fingers over her clit until the sound of slick skin filled the room. The first machine, Octapussy bolted to the Woody frame, pushed an inflatable plug straight into her cunt. It swelled, forcing those pink inner lips to pout around the stretch. She moaned at the stuffed-full pressure she’d been chasing. Then the twin inserter and the Intruder MKII lined up—one in each hole—and started hammering. The rhythm punched the air out of her until she screamed through back-to-back orgasms. Later, standing, the Monster rammed up from below and she sprayed across the steel, thighs shaking, breath ragged.