Yes, she up for the challenge

The white pale redheaded slut Ronnie felt a jolt of adrenaline as Jamal’s hand slid possessively around her waist, pulling her against him. His grip was firm, demanding.

Malik’s laughter deepened as he traced a calloused finger along the glitter streaking her collarbone. "Special offer, huh?" he murmured, eyes dark with intent. DeShawn’s whiskey-laced breath warmed her neck as he leaned in, crumpled bills already fisted in his hand.

"One hundred," Ronnie breathed, arching into Jamal’s touch. "Each."

DeShawn slapped the cash into her palm—wet, crumpled notes smelling of tobacco and sweat. Malik shoved a wad into her top, fingers lingering on her nipple. Jamal just grinned, gold tooth flashing. "Lead the way, snowflake."

Ronnie guided them down a narrow alley slick with grime, heart pounding like a drum. Ginny’s probably flirting with a loser right now. Hermione’s being dumb. But this? She pushed open the rusted door of a vacant warehouse, moonlight slicing through broken windows to illuminate dust motes and discarded crates. "Here," she whispered, voice trembling with excitement.

Their black hands were everywhere at once, rough and greedy. Jamal pinned her against the cold brick wall, his thick cock already straining against his jeans as he ground into her hip. Malik ripped at her flimsy skirt, the cheap fabric tearing like paper under his grip.

DeShawn’s whiskey breath hit her face as he claimed her mouth, tongue forcing past her lips wet, demanding, tasting of cheap liquor and ownership.

Ronnie gasped, the sound swallowed by the darkness of the warehouse. Jamal’s fingers dug into her thighs, spreading her wide.

Malik’s fist tangled in her fiery hair, yanking her head back. "Look at me, snowbunny," he growled. She obeyed, staring into his hooded eyes as he spat onto his palm and rubbed it over his thick length. The sound was obscene, wet, rhythmic, echoing off the hollow walls. A hand cupping her jiggling ass cheeks.

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