He started to finger them, a cruel, rhythmic pumping that made their bodies tremble violently.
His fingers moved with supernatural precision—curling at exact angles, pressing against the front walls of their cunts where a textured patch of flesh throbbed with sensitivity.
Helena's dry, virgin-tight walls scraped against his knuckles, the friction raw and intense. They rotated, grinding against that swollen cluster with each pull, making her inner walls ripple and contract.
Her pussy clenched rhythmically, trying to push his fingers out while sucking them deeper. Fluid leaked down her thighs, more than she'd ever produced.
She locked confused eyes on his, brows furrowed in bewilderment, moaning muffled against his shoulder. "Unnh... wh-what are you... ungh... doing to me, Young Lord?"
Mira's cunt, already slick, was looser, but he spread his fingers inside her, stretching her wide, then pinched that rough patch from both sides.
