Delisha comes back

Sandra planted her knees on either side of Delisha’s face and planted her pussy down on top of her, grinding into the battered Irish girl. “Taste what a real woman’s like, you scum, not just some ugly man with a pair of tits.”

Delisha’s protests were muffled by her muff, but Miss H suddenly screamed and thrashed, rolling off of Delisha holding her privates and wincing in agony.

Delisha spat out pubic hairs distastefully, wiping her mouth. “Don’t taste half bad for such an old cow,” she grinned.