The tall one’s fingers push inside me without warning.
Two thick digits, forcing their way into my p***y, stretching me open. I gasp – can’t help it – and arch off the bed.
“Tight,” he observes. “Wet and tight. She’s going to feel amazing.”
He starts f*****g me with his fingers. Slow, deliberate thrusts that make obscene wet sounds in the quiet room. His thumb finds my c**t and presses – not gently.
“You like that?” His mask hides everything but his eyes, and those are dark, predatory. “Like being tied up and finger-f****d by strangers?”
I don’t answer. Won’t give him the satisfaction.
He curls his fingers, finds that spot inside me, and presses.
“f**k – ” The word escapes before I can stop it.
“There it is.” He sounds pleased. “She can feel after all.”
The shorter one appears bes
