Lesbian Workout Stories: Going Hard

Romi Rain’s that no-nonsense trainer who rides her clients like hell just to pull them higher, and right now Dillion’s throwing punches like she’s trying to knock her ex through the goddamn wall. Romi clocks it, calls her on it. Dillion admits the guy’s gone, and Romi smells blood—good blood. She wraps behind her, peels off the gloves, slides her sweating body close and murmurs that real coaching sometimes means learning to let somebody else take over. Before Dillion can blink she’s got her wrists bound behind her back, Romi’s fingers already buried inside those soaked shorts, murmuring about pushing limits the only way that sticks. They hit the mat, Romi’s nose diving between Dillion’s thighs like it’s oxygen, telling her to yell it out: her ex never deserved that tight little ass. One long, filthy lick turns Dillion’s first orgasm into the second before she can catch her breath. Shorts gone, bodies slick, Romi shucks her own clothes and scissors down hard, wet cunts sliding, grinding until they both lock up and come shaking. Then she flips, plants that smooth pussy right over Dillion’s open mouth and fingers her even harder—two knuckles, then three—until Dillion sprays across the mat in a shaking, squirting mess that leaves her gasping and grinning like maybe, just maybe, her Tuesday sessions just got a hell of a lot more interesting.