Her face was a mess; now as bloody as her rival’s, and her eye was swollen shut. Her pussy was writhing. Both girls were now tired and in pain. T...rough the pain though, they both felt something else, some erotic pleasure in beating each other up. Leya was beaten pretty badly, as well, still from the last round, although she wasn’t bleeding nearly as badly as she was at the beginning of the round. Both women look like they’d just stepped out of the shower. Leya’s once bouncy, curled brown. "Try to hold it together," Shane teased. "This part requires precision work." "I'll try, it's just--nobody's ever painted my clit before." Shane worked diligently down there, coating my slick wet lips while I struggled not to hyperventilate from all the teasing. I moaned, "Oh my god, this is getting me so horny! I guarantee you, those Sports Illustrated models totally fuck the guys who do this. I don't care how bad the real paint smells." "Well, luckily for us, you smell like blueberries. More

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