Nah, command Violet to make herself cum on your cock while you film her face instead

Storage room near restrooms of Westfield Galleria, Westfield, at 1:00 PM on Saturday July 15, 2023.

"Make yourself cum on my cock," you command, angling the phone to capture Violet's face in perfect detail. "I want it all on camera."

Violet's brown eyes lock onto the lens, pupils dilated into black pools ringed with thin brown. Her violet hair clings to her sweat-slicked olive skin in damp tendrils. "Yes... I'll... I'll do it..." she pants, her voice raw and desperate. Her hips grind down harder, taking your seven-inch cock to the hilt with each bounce, Derek's cum still frothing white between your bodies.

Her massive G-cup tits swing heavily with each drop of her body, nipples stiff and dark, brushing against your chest. You grip her wide hip with your free hand, feeling the soft flesh yield beneath your fingers, guiding her rhythm faster. The wet squelching grows louder, obscene, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your shaft like it's trying to pull you deeper.

"Tell the camera what you need," you growl.

"I need... I need cum inside me," she whimpers, her gaze flicking between your eyes and the phone. "Need it so bad... can't cum without it... please..."

"Then take it."

Violet's movements become frantic, desperate. She slams herself down on your cock with brutal force, her clit grinding against your pelvis with every impact, her thighs trembling violently. Her fingers dig into your shoulders hard enough to leave marks. "Please — oh God — please cum in me —"

Behind her, Marcus strokes his newly eight-inch cock, eyes glued to her bouncing ass. Derek leans against the wall, his massive thirteen-inch shaft still semi-hard and glistening.

The storage room door creaks open.

You barely register it — too focused on Violet's impending orgasm, on capturing every twitch of her face. But then a soft, breathy voice cuts through the wet sounds.

"Oh my God... what are you guys doing?"

You glance toward the doorway. Standing there, wobbling slightly on red stiletto heels, is a stunningly curvy Latina woman you've never seen before. She's maybe 5'6", poured into a tight red mini-dress that clings to every curve — enormous H-cup breasts straining the fabric, wide hips, thick thighs. Long black hair cascades in loose waves past her shoulders. Caramel skin. Hazel eyes wide and confused.

And her thighs are visibly wet, a dark patch spreading at the crotch of her dress.

"Tyler?" Marcus blurts out, his jaw dropping.

The woman blinks, swaying slightly, one hand pressed to the doorframe for balance. "It's... it's Tina now," she says, her voice higher and breathier than Tyler's but with the same cadence. "I... the machine... I don't know what happened but I feel so weird..." Her hazel eyes drift down to where Violet is riding you, and her breath hitches. Her nipples visibly stiffen beneath the thin red fabric.

"Dude, you used the machine?" Derek laughs, disbelieving.

Tina's gaze is locked on the scene now, her lips parted, breathing faster. "I just... I wanted to see... and now I..." She shifts her weight, thighs pressing together, and a soft moan escapes her lips. "Why does everything feel so... sensitive?"

Violet hasn't stopped riding you. If anything, she's moving faster, more desperately, her pussy clenching tighter. "Fuck — so close — please —"