She thought she had her
The room was thick with the scent of sweat, coconut oil, and raw desire. The elegant bedroom, had been their private arena for nearly four hours. What started as playful, teasing tribbing between two of the most competitive women in the underground sexfight circuit had long since turned primal. Lacy, the fiery redhead with the long legs and wicked smirk, had finally wrested the top position twenty minutes ago. She’d pinned Bridget’s wrists above her head, slotted their slick pussies together in a perfect, grinding scissor, and rode her hard, hips rolling with merciless precision. Lacy’s clit, swollen and hypersensitive from the marathon, dragged over Bridget’s again and again, forcing broken moans from the blonde’s throat. For a glorious moment, it looked like Lacy was going to break her. Bridget’s eyes had fluttered, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in desperate little gasps of “fuck… fuck… Lacy…” But Bridget never tapped. Never submitted. Now the tide had turned in the cr...