Layla's eyes went wide, mouth dropping open. She stared like she couldn't believe what she was seeing—this beloved media figure, the perfect, untouchable Carrie Beldenwary, reduced to a begging, blindfolded mess.
I grabbed Carrie by the waist, untied her legs with quick pulls, and pulled her onto my lap. She straddled me eagerly, blindfold still on, and sank down onto my cock in one greedy drop. The squelching sound was loud—her pussy still full of my earlier load, cum leaking out around my shaft and dripping down my balls in thick, creamy rivulets as she started riding.
I looked at Layla, smirked, and started thrusting up hard, meeting her bounces with rough slaps of my hips.
"Fuck, look at this slut," I growled, slapping Carrie's ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. "Begging for cock like a cheap whore. You love being used, don't you, Carrie? Inside your own fucking car."
Carrie moaned louder, bouncing faster, tits swaying wildly. "Yes, fuck me, use me, cum in me!"
