Teaching Mira and Athina

Mira Cuckold and Athina sit on white linens. Mira slides four fingers into Athina first, knuckles disappearing past the knuckle, palm flattening against slick folds. Athina exhales, hips lifting. Their eyes lock. Athina answers by easing her own hand into Mira, the movement slow, deliberate, her wedding ring glinting as her ring finger follows. Both wrists twist gently, skin glistening with fresh lube. They breathe in sync. A tremor runs through Athina’s thighs; Mira answers with a harder push until the heel of her hand kisses Athina’s entrance. The room fills with soft, wet sounds. They ease out just enough to make room, then sink back in deeper, each thrust measured, patient. Sweat gathers at Mira’s temples, runs down Athina’s spine. Fingers curl, stretch, coax. Their bellies tense, breaths turn ragged. Climax crashes into them separately, hips bucking, cunts clenching around invading hands. They stay inside, pulsing, letting the aftershocks roll through them, then begin again—slower now, learning the pace the other needs, building toward the next sharp crest.