Dido & Karolina On Fire

Two women steal the room. Blond Dido towers over Karolina, both bare and burning. Lube gleams between Dido's fingers as she folds them into a tight wedge. Karolina lies open on her spine, knees drawn wide, breath shallow. The first thrust sinks in smooth. By the second, the knuckles ease past. Dido works the wrist, slides further until her forearm disappears inside to the bone. Karolina's eyelids flutter. Her mouth hangs slack, cheeks flushed. She feels every knuckle, every knuckle feels her. Dido keeps her strokes measured and deliberate. Every push forces a fresh gasp. Her wrist flexes inside Karolina's heat, then stills, lodged so deep that there is nothing left outside to see. The hush between them speaks for both.