Hot Fisting Mess

Alessandra spreads her thighs wider, fingers slick with her own wetness, and sinks them into Chary one slow knuckle at a time. Chary throws her head back, blond hair sticking to her lips, and groans like she’s been starved for it. She fumbles for the lube, coats her own hand, then pushes four fingers deep into Alessandra’s cunt with one thick thrust. Each woman’s wrist disappears past the knuckles. The room fills with wet, obscene squelching every time one of them pumps deeper. Alessandra’s elegant cheekbones flush pink; her polished mouth drops open, panting filth she’d never say at dinner. They lock eyes—ice-blue to ice-blue—and push harder, arms working in desperate rhythm, stretching each other until the bed creaks and they’re both glistening, thighs trembling, ruined mascara running down perfect skin.