I Was A Teenage MILF - Part 3

Three girls—too young to be in anyone's fantasy, too wet to care—pressed together in the back of the laundromat. Shaved pussies slick and spread, grinding on fingers and thighs, soft gasps turning into sharp little moans. One had her legs hooked over the folding table, the other two working her like they knew what they were doing. Tongues, hands, the wet slap of skin. Then the guy stepped in—late twenties, cock already out, thick and heavy. He bent the first girl over the dryer, sank into her without asking, filled her until she shook. When he pulled out she dripped; he moved straight to the next one, pushed inside her ass in one slow thrust that made her breath catch. Third girl watched, fingers circling her own clit until he grabbed her hair and shoved himself down her throat, all three holes used in rotation while the machines thumped behind them. Sweat, detergent, sex. They didn’t stop until the guy’s load marked each of them—one pussy, one ass, one pretty tongue—and the place smelled like money and trouble.