Teaching Ella Brawen

Ella Brawen lives next door. I heard her tonight, loud and unmistakable. She wasn’t hurt. I knew that much from the sound alone. Still, curiosity pulled me across the grass and into her room. She was on her back, legs spread, the dildo slick and half-buried, nowhere near enough. Her eyes met mine. "Need a hand?" I asked, already kneeling. She nodded. I eased the toy free and pressed my hand flat against her, fingers together. One slow push and my knuckles slid past the tight ring of muscle. She clenched around my wrist, then took everything, breath shuddering. I moved inside her, fist opening and closing in steady rhythm, feeling every squeeze, every tremor run up my arm. Ella came hard. The sheets were soaked. My forearm glistened to the elbow.