Piece of Cake

San Francisco lets you get away with murder, and Stormy Leather lets you do it in public. We dragged India Summer inside and the place didn't throw us out. Rain Degre was already there, eyes bright, ready to get filthy. Strangers painted India's face, strangers' cum sliding down her chin. We yanked her panties over her head like a blindfold and made her crawl across the floor on her knees. Next stop was the bakery. The girls behind the counter dropped their piping bags when they saw James shove his cock straight up India's ass. They went to work with the frosting instead. Thick white cream smeared across her tits, her stomach, her spread cheeks while James hammered into her. By the time he finished she was coated head to toe, another piece of cake behind the glass.