The best of the Corps

Sergeant Angie Koks has the kind of body that makes every man in the Corps stand up straighter. Blond hair. Full lips. A uniform that clings where it shouldn’t. When she wants answers, she takes her time—long legs spread over the prisoner’s lap, soft mouth coaxing truth straight out of him. Today the standard tricks feel too slow, so she drops to her knees and swallows both men down like it’s standard protocol. One cock stretches her throat, the other presses between her breasts; she moans around the shaft because she likes the weight, the stretch, the mess. When her pussy starts to drip onto the floor, she climbs up and sinks onto the first hard length. She’s already wet enough to take it deep. The second man presses his wet head against her tight back entrance, pushes, and slides inside until she’s filled front and back. Angie rocks between them, every thrust punching a soft sound from her throat. They set a rhythm that leaves her shaking, sweat sliding down the small of her back. She comes once with a low cry, pussy clenching hard around the cock buried in it. They don’t stop. They fuck her through it, pace turning sharp and deep until the first man pulls out and paints her open mouth. The second follows seconds later, thick ropes striping her cheek and lips. Angie licks what she can reach and smiles up at both of them, lips glossy, eyes half-lidded. Mission accomplished.