Lend A Fist Or Two

Anna de Ville's appetite never quiets. She craves more than fingers and toys can give her, so she lies back, draws her knees wide, and works her fist inside herself for the first time. Her own knuckles stretch her open, knuckles pressing deeper with each breath, yet she stays restless, unsatisfied. Then the door opens. Tommy King steps in, eyes fixed on the hand Anna can’t pull free fast enough. A slow smile forms. Tommy sheds her clothes without ceremony, climbs onto the bed, and eases two slick fingers into Anna’s already needy cunt. The intrusion draws a gasp, then a moan. She trades the hand in her pussy for her full fist, sliding past the ring of muscle in steady, determined thrusts. Anna’s spine arches. Tommy answers by pressing her fist into Anna’s ass, the slick heat clenching tight around every ridge of her knuckles. When she draws back to catch her breath, Anna lifts her dripping hand and slides it in alongside Tommy’s, both fists stretching her open at once—one buried in her ass, the other buried in her cunt—rhythm syncing into something brutal and deliberate. She shakes, legs trembling, voice ragged, every muscle locked around the double invasion. When it ends she stays spread open, dripping, hollowed out and still trembling, unsure if anything will ever feel like enough again.