Wedding Venue Snafu

Ryan Keely's about to get hitched and the venue hunt's turning into pure chaos. She drags her soon-to-be stepdaughter Khloe Kapri into this industrial warehouse that's supposed to be their fancy wedding backdrop, but it's falling apart—rust everywhere, a handful of sad metal chairs where the Instagram decor was supposed to shine. Ryan's seething; she paid actual money for this online scam. Her head's spinning, heartbeat hammering. Khloe moves in close, leans on her, breath warm, playful hands sliding down Ryan's sides. A wicked little smile, a tease about forgetting the stress for a quick ride. Ryan holds back half a second—then yanks Khloe in by the hips, grinding hard against her, lips hot and hungry. They tear at each other, fingers twisting under fabric, bodies pressing hard on a paint-peeling crate. Ryan strips, shoulders shoved against a creaky pillar while Khloe drops, tongue buried deep between her spread thighs. Slick, wet sounds echo, Ryan's juices glazing Khloe's eager lips. Khloe kneels higher after, rips off her own panties, straddles Ryan, thick fingers pushing in knuckle-deep, thumb circling her swollen clit until Ryan's shaking. Legs flex, juices dripping down her ass, thighs slick as she begs with every wild thrust. Flat on a dusty pallet, legs spread wide, Khloe goes to work—pumping, spanking, rubbing—until Ryan cums hard, squirts, hips bucking. Ryan groans, biting her lip, chest heaving, ready to think about that pile of crap venue again. Just one more loud, messy orgasm first.