Stretched To Her Limits

Casey showed up at Katrina's place with a suitcase and no boyfriend. She told the truth over coffee—she wanted her ass fucked, not fingered. Katrina raised an eyebrow, then smiled and fetched the box. Smooth wooden handles, polished steel plugs, thick silicone shafts lined up by size. She picked the smallest first. Casey peeled off her jeans, climbed onto the bed on all fours. Katrina slicked her up, pushed past the tight ring, and felt Casey give way one slow inch at a time. The next toy waited on the sheet—darker, wider, already glistening. Casey pushed back against it, breath catching, hips twitching as the stretch deepened. No promises, no sentiment, just the wet sounds of lube and skin and a friend taking care of exactly what the other one needed.