It's All In The Wrist

Eva Berger slides three fingers inside Chary, then folds in her thumb and pushes. The fist sinks slowly, pussy stretching around the widest part of her hand. Chary stops breathing. Eva holds still, lets the heat pulse around her wrist, then draws back just enough to make the suction. Fingers curled, she grinds her knuckles over the soft front wall, rubs without mercy until Chary’s thighs shake. "Don’t fight it," Eva whispers. She buries her hand deeper, pulls it back, buries it again, slow and steady, every inch covered in slick shine. Chary’s cry turns into a broken gasp. Her back lifts, her calves tighten, and the first wave slams through her. Eva stays inside through every jerk and clench, keeps her fist right there while Chary comes, hard, soaking the sheet and moaning like she’ll never catch her breath again.