Teaching Lily LaBeau

Blue Angel adores showing girls the raw joy of fisting their own cunts—no men, no toys, just two capable hands sinking knuckle-deep. Lily proves an eager student. She kneels on the silk sheets, thighs spread wide while Blue Angel circles behind her, stroking her shoulders, guiding her fingers between slick, swollen folds. Lily starts timid, only two fingers sliding inside her slick heat. Blue Angel murmurs encouragement and presses a third, then a fourth, the stretch making Lily gasp and arch her back. Trembling, Lily tucks her thumb and pushes farther, the wide flare of her knuckles stretching her opening until her fist slips inside with a wet pop. Her eyes flutter in surprised pleasure. Blue Angel rests a steady palm on her lower belly, directing, praising, until Lily pumps smoothly in and out, each thrust spilling thick cream over her wrist. She curls her fist, rotates, and Lily cries out, shivering from the deep pressure. Soon Lily’s wrist glistens with her own juices; her abdomen flexes in time with her strokes, cunt hugging her whole hand like a hungry mouth. Faster now, she shoves deeper, hips rolling to meet each punch, gasps turning ragged, control and pleasure flooding through her in one taut pulse after another until her body locks up and comes hard around her own buried fist.