Fake Hostel – Tight ass babes get stuck under a bed only to be rescued by an unlikely hero

Title: “Sexy Tight-Ass Babes Need a Hero… and Oh What Heroes They Find!”

Deep within the crawling walls of the most sordid hostel in all the land, the sound of sex could be heard. It was thick, heady, and unrelenting. The walls were thin and the bedframes were even thinner. The air itself seemed to vibrate with sexual tension as delicate hands roamed over rippling muscles and breathy moans echoed in the halls.

Sure, the hostel was a quirky place. Strange performers, kooky art installation – a giant saliva bomb erected in the lobby and an unholy alliance between the potted plants and the occasional driftwood were rumored to reside here. The bohemian backpackers were the usual regulars but they’d turned over the booking of several rooms to college coeds for a week. A last hurrah before summoning their study habits from their little pits of hell that is what one of the coeds called it.

“Oh, you wouldn’t know what you’re missing!” she said. This knock-kneed beauty had a mouth that sounded like a Bronx train station and hair of spun gold. The camera caught a glimpse of what she looked like scrabbling from the bed to the floor when it gets too hot to handle and being a dutiful camera person, I make sure to rewind the tape and took pains in seeing that again. On close inspection, you could catch those ass dimples forming a cute smile when she walks.

As for her companion, she was his foil – their hair was equally unruly but with the color of a raven’s wing, her pixie cut was asymmetrical and I swallow the drool at the sight of her pert ass when she bent over for a fellatio that will rattle the heavens.

“Those two,” another coed murmured from where she sat on the window, legs crossed and coolly leaning against one longer leg, “may very well get stuck under that bed, that’s how much time they spend doing the mattress tango and putting their heads between some legs and all the sugar is gone from their Spoons.”

It was, indeed, an open secret – these two had been the star attractions on campus. Those who were lucky had a shot at being one of their friends; but the unlucky ones – well, they only ever get to fantasize about their tongues buried in pussy, moaning and cupping breasts like battered apples. The price of hanging around with these two was you get to be their go-to girls when they needed a buffer from the cameras. Don’t know what else they did as their purpose when those vixens were busy with their schlong.

The reason they renewed the contract for the weeks ahead was a plot to spring the camera syndrome on the essential personas of the hostel vibrator. With the leaders of these two able to
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