Teaching Linda and Meg

They haven't settled on the tutor yet. Doesn't matter much now. Soft bodies move against soft bodies. Each girl watches the other with hungry eyes as slick fingers slide deeper, testing how far a cunt can open for a fist. One girl takes it slow, working her knuckles past a tight ring of muscle until her whole hand disappears inside. Her partner answers with a slow roll of hips and the wet sound of acceptance. Fists pump in lazy rhythm, curling, twisting, testing depth. One girl's fingers splay wide inside the other, knuckles brushing slick walls, stretching the soft channel until breath catches in her throat. Sweat gathers at the small of her back, at the base of her spine. She trembles, cunt tightening around the invading wrist, then pushes back for more. Their moans fall together—quiet, unguarded, full of the shock of pleasure. One girl looks down between her spread thighs, watching the bulge of a fist working inside her. Her clit stands red and stiff against a pale mound of skin. The other girl rubs it with her thumb, never breaking the slow fucking rhythm of her hand. Every stroke drags a small cry out of both of them.