Teaching Nesty

Nesty chased the fist of her own hand like it owed her money. She woke preening, knuckles slick, already proud of the filthy little victory inside her. Jane showed up that week with clean hands and a dirty mind, and she drove straight in. Her arm disappeared past the wrist, working Nesty’s blonde cunt until the girl howled and came apart. Every inch flexed, slick noises rode the air, and the whole mess felt tight, wet, and shameless. A good scene worth every filthy second.