Teaching Gabriella May

Gabriella needed practice. Her cunt gaped nicely already. Izabella de Cruz took her on the table, laid her back, and slid fingers inside her fast and smooth. The younger girl opened her knees wider. Izabella twisted her wrist, knuckle after knuckle disappearing past her lips while juices coated her hand. She went deeper. Gabriella moaned, grabbed her own thighs, stretched them apart so her pink hole could take the fist whole. It swallowed every inch. A wet slap filled the room whenever Izabella drove her hand in, pulled back, shoved it deeper again. Gabriella’s voice hitched, high and pretty, with each thrust. Fluid leaked down her crack and pooled under her ass. She shook when Izabella rotated inside her, knuckles grinding against that tender inner ring. Puffy labia clung and stretched around the wrist every time Izabella paused to admire how wide the cunt had grown. Then she rolled her fist once more, wringing another whimper out of the girl. Hours passed like that. Minutes were meaningless. Just the wet slide, the steady pressure, the way Gabriella’s hole responded by softening, blooming, swallowing whatever Izabella gave it.