Cruising girls

Blue Angel has always had a thing for speed. The river, the roar of the engine, the wind tearing through her blonde hair—it gets her wet before the boat even moves. Today she brought Debbie White along, brunette curves snug in a tiny bikini, and the moment they cut the motor the air changed. Lips met, hungry. Tongues tangled. Blue dropped to her knees first, pulling Debbie’s bottoms aside so her mouth could claim that smooth, glistening pussy. Debbie moaned, legs spread on the sun-warmed deck, fingers buried in Blue’s hair. The brunette turned greedy in return, yanking Blue up, bending her over the seat cushions, tongue flicking between her folds before sliding lower to rim her tight little hole. Blue laughed, wicked, then grabbed the boat’s key ring—cold metal, three keys still dangling—and pressed the rounded tip against Debbie’s asshole. She worked it in slowly, watching the brunette’s rim stretch and grip, the keys clinking softly with every push. Debbie gasped, rocked back, taking the makeshift toy deeper while Blue’s tongue kept busy on her clit. Blonde hair stuck to sweat-slick skin, brunette thighs trembled, and the boat rocked with every filthy thrust of that improvised plug until both girls were shaking and dripping under the open sky.