Fisting Session with Nesty and Daniella

Nesty and Daniella sink onto the bed like they’ve done it a hundred times before. Daniella slides four fingers deep, then her thumb, her knuckles vanishing as Nesty’s cunt swallows her hand to the wrist. The wet sound is obscene. They work fast at first, then slow when Nesty shakes and comes, a quick tremble that barely slows Daniella down. She pumps harder until Nesty’s thighs glisten and another orgasm rips through her, less a moan than a broken gasp. Then they swap. Nesty’s smaller hand disappears inside Daniella with almost no resistance. She curls her fist, drags it over that swollen spot again and again, milking every twitch and shudder out of her. Daniella comes twice in a row, then three, four—she loses count the same way Nesty did. The room smells like sex and lube, heavy and sweet. Their arms shake from the effort, but neither one stops until the other stops breathing so hard. Then they rest, wrists still inside each other, breathing through the aftershocks.