Teaching Lyen

Lyen knows her way around a fist already. So does Nesty. No beginner grace left between them, just the practiced give of muscle, the slow press and roll until fingers slip past that final tight ring. Nesty starts shallow, then pushes deeper, knuckles working under the velvet clutch of Lyen’s cunt. Lyen braces on the cushions, breathing through every widening inch, as Nesty curls, uncurls, starts to twist. Wet sound, tight heat, sweat slick between thighs. Nesty keeps the rhythm easy, then suddenly buries wrist-deep and holds, letting Lyen’s body spasm around the intrusion. Lyen moans, pushes back, taking the knuckles like a greeting she hasn’t heard in months. Nesty pumps, hard, and the slick starts to drip down Lyen’s inner thighs.