Teaching Hadjara

Hadjara never backs down. When Chary mocked her about fisting, she accepted without hesitation. Her slender hand pushed deep, fingers working with careful pressure. Wet heat gave way. Chary felt each knuckle stretch her open until the entire hand sat inside. Her cunt clutched and pulsed. Each thrust brought fresh slick, thick strands dripping down Hadjara’s wrist. The sensation built fast. Orgasm hit first, then another, hips jerking without rhythm. Her inner walls fluttered and squeezed, milked her friend’s wrist with every clench. Sweat cooled on her skin. Her thighs quivered. She came again, sharper, body convulsing until her muscles finally went slack and the aftershocks left her panting.