Payton Leigh

I can't believe my luck this morning, walking the rough part of town and literally bumping into Jason Brown and Ice Cold. Their ride's dead, and I stroll up like it's normal: "I'll trade my shaved pussy for getting you back on the road." They shoot me that 'this bitch is crazy' look but when I prove I'm dead serious their faces change. Heart pounding, I drop straight to my knees and yank down their jeans. Those fat black cocks spring out so heavy they slap my cheek. I wrap a hand around each, let saliva drip and start working them, shoving Jason in my mouth until my eyes tear, then do Ice until spit strings from my chin. Once both rods shine, I turn, spread, and back onto Jason, white lips stretching, sinking until I'm hilted. Ice steps in beside him, slapping my ass, then slides into my cunt alongside his boy, both of them buried to the root, stretching me wide. Balls deep, the second guy grabs my hips and they start slamming into me together—short thrusts, long thrusts, the wet clap of skin on skin filling the alley while I moan louder than traffic. My pussy grips both shafts like a vice, milking them until they flood me one after the other, thick ropes pulsing deep until cum spills out around their throbbing dicks, running hot down my thighs and coating the asphalt. Proof's right there in the sticky evidence I wrung out of them.