Teaching Janny

Janny and Bonny Bon share more than blood. The same hunger lives in their bodies. Janny spreads on her back while my fist disappears inside her. Not slender female knuckles, but my thick male hand. Wrist-deep. She gasps when I twist my fingers, her cunt squeezing back around my wrist like warm, living muscle. Every twitch and clench reads straight through my skin. Her body swallows me deeper with each thrust, heat pulsing against my knuckles. I curve my fingers and feel her gasp again. She takes the full width of my hand without hesitation, hips lifting, walls fluttering around my wrist like she wants to keep it there.