Teaching Madlin Moon

Madlin knows fisting. She has taken fists before. But the hunger never settles. Tina Blade has her legs open and her fist halfway inside, working slow, steady strokes that make the whole cunt flutter around her wrist. Each thrust pulls a fresh wave of juice down Madlin’s thighs. Madlin starts to shudder, breath broken, then she erupts, spraying hard across Tina’s forearm, the wet pulse refusing to stop. Tina keeps her hand buried, curling her fingers, pushing through each fresh spasm until Madlin is soaked and shaking and already begging for another round.