Sensual Lesbian Fisting

Katrin, inked from her shoulders down to her ribs, tastes Tiffany the way a woman tastes when she already knows what she wants. Tiffany's tongue meets hers and the two of them peel out of their clothes, fingers catching on lace, skin flashing into view. Their breasts ride high and tight, small enough to cup and full enough to feel the weight. Tiffany presses her mouth to the ink on Katrin's collarbone and breathes, 'Wrist.' Katrin's smirk is quick and wicked. She nudges Tiffany onto her back, lines two fingers up, then four, and slides them in to the knuckles before adding her thumb, working slowly, deliberately, until the heel of her hand pops past the tight ring and sinks all the way inside. Tiffany's moan breaks and curls back on itself, hips tipping up, heels digging at the sheets. Katrin keeps a steady pulse—push, twist, hold—her forearm glistening, watching every flutter that travels across Tiffany's belly. The pace quickens, then slows, then steadies again, both of them chasing the point where pleasure stops being polite and starts screaming.