For the Country!

Puma Swede sits in the dim room, back straight, legs crossed. She's blonde, calm, already decided what she needs from the spy. Sandy watches from across the table, handcuffed, quiet at first. Puma stands. Walks around. Stops behind the woman. Her fingers trace the edge of Sandy's jaw. She unbuttons the uniform blouse without hurry, takes off her bra, lets her breasts press against Sandy's cheek. Then she kneels. Pulls Sandy's legs apart. Licks slowly, deliberately, her tongue working each fold until the spy starts to shake. When Sandy moans, Puma stands again. She takes a fistful of blonde hair and pushes Sandy's face between her own thighs. The message is clear. She keeps her there until the spy obeys. The licking turns eager. Sandy pushes her tongue deeper, sucks harder, hungry now. Puma watches her work. When she cums, her thighs tremble around Sandy's cheeks. Still breathing heavy, she bends the spy over the table. Hands grip the full curve of Sandy's ass. She spreads her, fingers sliding inside, then dips her head to taste the wet heat again. Each lick draws a new sound. Sandy pushes back against her mouth, desperate for more. Puma gives it, tongue thrusting, lips sealed tight, no mercy, only purpose.