Lesbian Fisting #4 - Scene 2 - Bella Morgan & Samantha B.
Bound To Please Her
Trust is the real subject here. Slow preparation, generous lubricant, eye contact that never breaks: fisting between women demands patience, and these 353 scenes give it room to breathe. Lesbian X Films shoots the build-up as attentively as the release, because that is where intensity lives.
Avery Black limps through her front door, one heel already lost somewhere between the curb and the hallway. Her neighbor, still in EMT blues, closes the door behind them. Little Puck keeps a hand at the small of Avery’s back, steering her toward the couch. “Sit. Let me make sure nothing’s cracked.” She kneels, fingers already working the buttons of Avery’s blouse, peeling the fabric away from skin that’s just starting to bruise. Avery’s breasts rise with every breath—full, heavy, the kind of tits that demand both hands. Puck’s touch stays clinical at first, thumbs pressing down each rib, then sliding higher. A slow, circling pressure over one nipple and Avery’s breath catches. Puck glances up, catches the flush spreading down Avery’s throat, but says nothing. The exam keeps moving, methodical, until the moment her palm lingers between Avery’s thighs a second too long. Avery leans in, voice low. “You already have me half-undressed. Might as well finish the job the way I want.” Puck’s answer is the sound of her belt hitting the floor. She grabs Avery by the hips, flips her onto her stomach over the arm of the couch, and drives into her with one hard thrust. Avery moans, loud, unashamed, pushing back for more. Puck’s inked forearms flex as she holds her there, hips snapping fast and rough, the wet slap of skin filling the quiet room. Avery comes first, legs shaking, then drags Puck down on top of her so she can feel those big, soft tits pressed against her back while Puck finishes with a low, guttural groan.
Avery Black limps through her front door, one heel already lost somewhere between the curb and the hallway. Her neighbor, still in EMT blues, closes the door behind them. Little Puck keeps a hand at the small of Avery’s back, steering her toward the couch. “Sit. Let me make sure nothing’s cracked.” She kneels, fingers already working the buttons of Avery’s blouse, peeling the fabric away from skin that’s just starting to bruise. Avery’s breasts rise with every breath—full, heavy, the kind of tits that demand both hands. Puck’s touch stays clinical at first, thumbs pressing down each rib, then sliding higher. A slow, circling pressure over one nipple and Avery’s breath catches. Puck glances up, catches the flush spreading down Avery’s throat, but says nothing. The exam keeps moving, methodical, until the moment her palm lingers between Avery’s thighs a second too long. Avery leans in, voice low. “You already have me half-undressed. Might as well finish the job the way I want.” Puck’s answer is the sound of her belt hitting the floor. She grabs Avery by the hips, flips her onto her stomach over the arm of the couch, and drives into her with one hard thrust. Avery moans, loud, unashamed, pushing back for more. Puck’s inked forearms flex as she holds her there, hips snapping fast and rough, the wet slap of skin filling the quiet room. Avery comes first, legs shaking, then drags Puck down on top of her so she can feel those big, soft tits pressed against her back while Puck finishes with a low, guttural groan.
