Lesbian teens in sexy stockings try deep anal fisting

The Alabaster Alcove: Lesbian Teens in Lubricated Silk Attempting Anal Fisting

In the dappled, shadowed confines of a boudoir, flushed with rose and jasmine, two alabaster beauties recline upon the plush couch, their slender limbs entwined in lubricated silk stockings that glimmer like yesterday’s moonlight. Superficially, they seem like delicate blossoms, yet beneath the surface, a tempest of carnal curiosity and unbridled lust brews, about to erupt. These are no ordinary blossoms, but gardener’s varieties, Jade and Lily, two nubile Russian vixens, ripe for the plucking.

The room is a symphony of sighs and soft moans, a duet of desire that grows louder as the girls scandalously French kiss, their tongues dancing a tantric tango. As they lip-lock, their hands roam, interdigitaling and indifferent to the sanctity of boundaries. The one with the auburn mane, Jade, stores her swarthy digits between the limbs of the blonde, Lily, squalloping the slick silk now treating as tights. Lily, in turn, avails her digits to map the geography of Jade’s geography. Their caresses are liquid, fluid, heinously arousing, igniting fireworks in their loins.

The girls, in a drunken haze of euphoria, decide to explore fresh frontiers, to venture into unchartered lands of sensuality. In a daring move that would make a seasoned haggard hack into stutters, they remove their intricately designed lingerie, leaving only their sinful stockings intact. Their perky breasts, now unbent, jiggle salaciously, attention-starved. London ashens sporting an unkempt bush, their nether regions as inviting as service-station pies that have been sitting under the heat lamps for an eternity.

Together, they divest their derrieres, round as ripe peaches, each buttock a succulent. With a sly glance that speaks a thousand dirty secrets, Jade brings her face to the sphincter of Lily’s derriere. Lily, the willing recipient of Jade’s oral fixation, prods her backside forward, eager to receive. Jade, then, using her tongue as a baseball bat, begins the familiar process of rimming, tongue-managing that puckered rosebud, speedily covering the circumference. The squawk that emerges from Lily’s lips betrays her pleasure.

Swelling, Jade procures an industrial-sized tube of personal lubricant. Unlike conventional gentrices, this one is enhanced to offer the same quintessence as rabbit semen. As she applies a generous portion upon her palm, the pong of spunk suffuses the boudoir. Undeterred, she boldly brings her hand to the anal opening of Lily, the sphincter now sleek, greased, and glistening.

Lily, her eyes shut in anticipation, exhales as the first few knuckles of Jade’s hand slide into the petite orifice, eliciting a long drawn out moan that echoes through the room, sounding like a howler monkey in heat. As the hand ventures deeper, the ring of the anus stretches, creating an intricate pattern that looks delectable. This fisting session has started in earnest.

The room fills with the sordid sounds of flesh being pushed through, an erotic symphony that would make discordant cacophony sound melodic by contrast. The wet squelches and pops arousingly bolstered by womanly groans. Jade starts fist-pumping at a staccato pace, with every entrance causing more of Lily’s anal walls to elongated. Lily squirms and bucks, unable to contain the sensations, her pussy drenched, droplets of nectar seeping through the stockings.

The blonde bombshell’s dilated pucker flowers to receive the alien hand, eagerly accommodating more of the fist. It’s a revoltingly titillating sight, like wringing a bulging sausage through a garden sieve. The anus gapes obscenely, the throat subsuming the hand with mind-boggling ease. Jade twists and churns her arm, the gooey sounds lighting her lust on fire, her other hand fervently frigging her own flower.

In a mindblowingly dirty eleventh-hour addition, Jade, in a show of sprezzatura, inserts a second hand into Lily’s stretched derriere, doubling the intensity. Lily almost swan dives into a cataclysmic orgasm, squealing, an epileptic harlot, juices cascading, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull from sheer ecstasy.

As the sun sets, casting the room in a warm glow, the two naughty nymphs, having sated their carnal cravings, lay wrapped in an arms embrace, exchanging triumphant grins. Yet, one thing is certain, this depraved little escapade is but a chapter in their adventurous thesaurus of sensuality. And oh, how we await the next. Gadzooks.