Elena was twenty-eight, and she had never been more nervous or more ready in her life. She lay on their bed on a spread of dark towels, naked, her knees bent and open, watching Damion, thirty-two, coat both of his hands in lube with slow deliberate strokes. He had done one fist before, and she had loved it, had begged for it. Tonight he wanted more. Tonight he wanted both.

— You sure about this, mamacita? — he asked, his voice low, holding her eyes. He always asked. That was why she trusted him with everything. — Once we start, you tell me to slow down and I slow down. You tell me to stop and I stop. But I think you can take it.

— I want it, papacito, — she said, and her voice did not shake this time. — I want both of your hands inside me. Make me take them.

Damion smiled, dark and hungry, his cock already rising thick and hard against his stomach. He set the lube bottle down and came to kneel between her spread legs. Her pussy was already wet, glistening, her clit swollen and pulsing. He ran two fingers along her slit, spreading her lips, and she moaned softly, her hips lifting toward him.

— Always so wet for me, — he murmured. — My greedy girl.

He drizzled lube generously over her pussy and worked it in with his fingers, one finger, then two, then three, pumping slowly, stretching her, getting her slick and open. Elena moaned, her back arching, her hands gripping the towels. She knew this part, the warm-up, and her body responded eagerly, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her juices flowing.

— That is it, — Damion said, adding a fourth finger, scissoring gently. — Open up for me, mamacita. Get nice and loose.

He worked her for long minutes, his fingers deep inside her, curling against her front wall, finding the spots that made her cry out. He pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed slow circles, and she came with a soft cry, her pussy clenching around his fingers, her juices flooding over his hand. He let her ride it out, then kept going, keeping her wet and open and wanting.

— Good, — he said, withdrawing his fingers and picking up the lube again. — Now we start.

He coated his right hand thickly, all the way to the wrist, and pressed his folded fingers to her entrance. Elena bore down like he had taught her, breathing deep, and he pushed in slowly. His four fingers slid inside her, then his knuckles, and she felt the familiar deep stretch, the burning ring of her entrance giving way, and then his fist was inside her, his wrist disappearing into her dripping pussy.

— Fuck, yes, — Damion groaned, his cock twitching. — There it is. My fist is home.

Elena moaned, long and low, her walls stretched wide around his hand, fluttering and gripping his wrist. The fullness was intense, delicious, her inner muscles pulsing around him in waves. He held still for a moment, letting her adjust, his fingers gently moving inside her, and then he began to pump slowly, his fist sliding in and out of her with wet squelching sounds.

— You take me so well, mamacita, — he said, watching his wrist slide in and out of her gaping entrance. — Your pussy was made for my hands.

He thrust deeper, his fist pressing into her deepest places, and she cried out, her hips rocking to meet every stroke. He curled his fingers hard against her front wall and she screamed, her orgasm building fast, her walls clenching rhythmically around his fist.

— Come for me, — he ordered, and she did, shattering around his hand, her screams filling the room, her pussy convulsing, her juices gushing out around his wrist.

He kept his fist buried deep through it, feeling every pulse, and when she finally went limp and panting, he smiled down at her with dark promise.

— That was just the warm-up, mamacita, — he said, and her eyes widened as she understood. — Now the real thing.

He slowly withdrew his first fist, easing it out of her stretched pussy, and she whimpered at the emptiness, her gaping entrance pulsing. Then he picked up the lube and coated his left hand just as thickly, and pressed it to her entrance alongside the memory of the first.

— Breathe, — he commanded softly. — Bear down. Let me in again.

She obeyed, and his second fist pushed inside her, her stretched walls accepting it more easily this time, the deep fullness returning, and she moaned with relief and pleasure. He pumped it slowly, his left fist moving in and out of her, her entrance gripping his wrist, her moans rising.

— So good, papacito, — she gasped. — So deep. Oh god.

He worked her with the second fist for long minutes, building her up again, his fingers curling and pressing, his wrist rotating, until she was panting and writhing and begging. Then he did what she had been waiting for and dreading in the best way.

— Ready? — he asked, and she nodded frantically.

He withdrew the second fist slowly, and before her entrance could close, he pressed both hands to her, his folded fingers side by side, and began to push them in together.

Elena’s breath caught. The stretch was enormous, far beyond anything she had felt, her entrance burning as it opened wider and wider around both sets of knuckles. She bore down hard, her whole body trembling, and she felt the widest part pass, the ring of her opening stretching to its absolute limit, and then both fists were sliding inside her together.

— Oh my god, — she sobbed, her voice breaking. — Papacito, you are both inside me. Both of you.

— Fuck, — Damion breathed, staring at his two wrists disappearing into her pussy side by side. — Look at you, mamacita. Look how wide you are stretched. Both my hands are inside your pussy.

Her walls were stretched impossibly wide, her inner muscles fluttering desperately around his wrists, trying to grip and barely able to. The fullness was overwhelming, a deep heavy pressure that filled her completely, and every tiny movement of his fingers sent shockwaves through her. She was panting, her breasts heaving, sweat shining on her skin, her hands clutching at the bed.

— How does it feel? — he asked, slowly moving both fists in small careful thrusts.

— So full, — she gasped. — I have never been so full. I can feel every finger. Oh papacito, do not stop, please do not stop.

He did not stop. He pumped both fists slowly, his wrists sliding in and out of her gaping entrance together, the wet sounds loud and obscene. Her pussy was stretched so wide around them that he could feel her inner walls rippling, could feel her pulse hammering deep inside her. He spread the fingers of one hand wide inside her while the other stayed curled, and she screamed at the deep internal stretch.

— Your pussy is eating both my hands, — he growled, his cock rock hard and leaking, dripping onto the bed. — You are taking everything I give you like the good little sub you are.

— Yours, — Elena sobbed, her hips rocking helplessly against his double invasion. — I am all yours, papacito. Make me come. Please make me come like this.

Damion leaned forward and took one of her hard nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his fists worked inside her, and the pleasure detonated through her. Her back arched off the bed, her whole body going rigid, and she came with a scream that tore from her throat, her stretched walls convulsing violently around both his fists, her juices flooding out around his wrists in a gush that soaked the towels.

— That is it, good girl, — he panted, holding both fists deep while she shattered around them. — Come all over my hands. Squeeze me.

She rode the wave, her body shaking, her cries fading into whimpers, and Damion kept both fists buried deep, feeling her stretched walls fluttering weakly around his wrists. He looked down at where his arms disappeared into her, at her swollen lips stretched impossibly wide, her clit throbbing, her juices and his lube gleaming everywhere, and his cock throbbed with renewed hunger.

— Stay just like that, — he ordered, his voice rough. — Do not move. I want to look at what I did to you.

Elena held still, panting, her thighs spread wide, both his fists deep inside her pussy. Damion slowly, carefully, spread the fingers of both hands wide inside her, stretching her inner walls apart from within, opening her up from the inside, and she gasped, a high broken sound, at the deep internal stretch.

— Oh fuck, papacito, — she whimpered. — I can feel you opening me up inside. It is so much.

— I know, — he said, his eyes locked on her gaping entrance, watching how her stretched opening pulsed around his wrists. — I can see your walls stretched around my hands. You are so open, mamacita. So perfectly open for me.

He began to move his fingers inside her, slow deliberate motions, pressing into her deepest places, massaging her inner walls from the inside. He found the spot deep inside her that made her whole body jolt, and he pressed it firmly with his knuckles, and she screamed, her back arching, her stretched pussy clenching helplessly around his fists.

— There it is, — he growled, pressing again, and again, each press sending shockwaves through her. — That is the spot. Feel how deep I am, mamacita. No cock has ever been this deep inside you. Only my hands.

— Only your hands, papacito, — she sobbed, her hips rocking helplessly against his double invasion. — Only you. Oh god, I am going to come again. I can feel it.

— Not yet, — he commanded, and he slowed his fingers, holding her on the edge, his fists deep and still inside her, his knuckles pressing firmly against her most sensitive deep spot without moving. — You come when I say you come. You understand me?

— Yes, papacito, — she gasped, trembling, her body hovering on the brink, her stretched walls fluttering frantically around his wrists. — Please. Please let me come.

He held her there, on the edge, for long agonizing seconds, his fists buried deep, his fingers pressing into her, and she whimpered and begged, her hands clawing at the towels, her whole body shaking with need.

— Please, papacito, please, — she chanted, tears of pleasure running down her cheeks. — I need to come. Please let me come on your hands.

— Come, — he ordered, and he curled the fingers of both hands hard against her front wall at once.

Elena shattered. Her scream tore from her throat, raw and wild, her back bowing off the bed, her stretched pussy convulsing violently around both his fists, wave after wave of pleasure ripping through her. Her juices gushed out around his wrists, soaking the towels beneath her, and her thighs shook uncontrollably. Damion held both fists deep through the storm, feeling every powerful pulse of her walls, his cock leaking steadily onto the bed.

— Good girl, — he breathed, watching her come apart around his hands. — Such a good girl. Look how your pussy milks my fists.

When the shaking finally eased, she lay limp and gasping, her gaping entrance still stretched wide around his wrists, her inner walls fluttering weakly. He began to move again, slow deep double thrusts, his fists sliding in and out of her together, and she moaned, her oversensitive body sparking with fresh pleasure at every stroke.

— Again, — she whispered, surprising herself. — Please, papacito. Again.

He gave it to her, pumping both fists with steady rhythm, his fingers curling and pressing deep inside her, and her second orgasm built fast and hot, her walls spasming around his wrists, her screams rising. He held her through it, his own breathing ragged now, his cock throbbing painfully.

Slowly, carefully, he withdrew one fist, then the other, easing them out of her enormously stretched pussy. Elena whimpered at the loss, her gaping entrance pulsing open and empty, her inner walls fluttering. Damion stared at her stretched pussy, at how open she was, her pink depths visible and glistening, and groaned.

— You are gaping so wide, mamacita, — he said. — I can see everything. Now come here and suck my cock. I need your mouth.

Elena moved eagerly, still trembling, and took his throbbing cock in both hands. It was burning hot, the head swollen purple-red, dripping with pre-cum. She licked the tip, tasting his salt, and then opened wide and took him deep into her throat. He groaned and fisted his hand in her hair, holding her head, and began to thrust into her mouth, his cock sliding deep into her throat with wet sounds.

— Fuck, yes, — he panted. — Take it all, mamacita. Deepthroat me.

She relaxed her throat and took him deeper, her nose pressing against his stomach, her lips stretched wide around his thick shaft. Her saliva ran down her chin and dripped onto her breasts. He thrust faster, harder, his cock pounding her throat, and she hollowed her cheeks and sucked, her tongue working furiously along his underside. She moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan, and she swallowed around his shaft, her throat massaging his head with every swallow. He held her head with both hands now, fucking her face with deep steady strokes, her spit running down to her elbows, and she took it all, her eyes watering, her throat stretched wide around him.

— That mouth is going to make me come, — he growled, but he pulled out, his cock throbbing and coated in her spit. — Not yet. I am going to fuck that stretched pussy first.

He stood and looked down at her, his cock wet and glistening with her saliva, throbbing heavily. Elena knelt before him, her lips swollen, her chin wet, her stretched pussy still gaping and dripping between her spread thighs.

— On your hands and knees, — he ordered, and she scrambled to obey, arching her back, presenting herself. — Show me that stretched pussy, mamacita. Show me what my hands did to you.

He knelt behind her and ran his cockhead along her slit, up and down, coating himself in her juices, pressing against her gaping entrance and watching it flutter open around his tip. Her inner walls were still stretched and sensitive, pulsing visibly, and he groaned at the sight.

— You are still so open, — he breathed. — Watch how deep I go now, mamacita. Feel every inch.

He flipped her onto her hands and knees, and she arched her back, presenting her gaping dripping pussy. He lined up his cock and pushed in, and Elena moaned at how deep he went, how easily he slid into her stretched depths, his cock reaching places that felt brand new.

He grabbed her hips and pounded into her, doggie style, his cock driving deep into her gaping pussy with hard wet thrusts, his balls slapping against her. The bed shook. Elena screamed beneath him, her tits bouncing, her stretched walls gripping his shaft in rippling waves, milking him.

— Take it, — Damion grunted, slamming into her. — Take my cock in that double-stretched pussy. Feel how deep I am now. My hands opened you up and now my cock is living in the space they made.

He slowed for a moment, grinding deep, his cock buried to the hilt, rotating his hips so his shaft rubbed every inch of her stretched inner walls. Elena moaned, long and broken, her pussy fluttering helplessly around him, and then he started pounding again, harder, faster, his hips slapping against her ass, the wet sounds of his cock in her gaping pussy filling the room.

— Tell me who stretched you, — he demanded, his voice ragged.

— You did, papacito, — she cried. — You stretched me with both hands. Oh god, you are so deep.

He reached around and rubbed her clit hard while he fucked her, and her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her walls convulsing around his shaft, her screams filling the room. He kept pounding through it, his release building, his cock swelling and throbbing inside her.

— I am going to fill you up, — he roared, his thrusts turning frantic. — Going to pump this stretched pussy so full.

He drove in deep and exploded, his cock pulsing jet after jet of hot cum into her depths, filling her up, and Elena moaned at the heat flooding her, her walls milking him for every drop. He stayed buried, grinding slowly, emptying himself completely into her.

When he pulled out, his cum poured out of her gaping entrance in a thick stream, running down her thighs. Damion pushed it back in with his fingers, two, three fingers deep in her stretched pussy, and she moaned, her walls fluttering weakly around them.

— My cum in my girl’s stretched pussy, — he said with dark satisfaction. — Perfect. You did so good tonight, mamacita. Both hands. Nobody else could take that.

He kept his fingers inside her, pumping slowly, working his seed deep, and Elena moaned, her tired walls fluttering around his fingers. He leaned over her back and kissed her shoulder, her neck, his cock still half-hard and resting against her thigh.

— Feel how full you are, — he murmured, curling his fingers inside her. — Full of my hands, full of my cum. All mine.

— All yours, papacito, — she whispered, exhausted and glowing, her body humming. — Only for you. Only you.

He lay down beside her and pulled her close, his hand resting possessively on her mound, feeling her pussy still gently pulsing.

— I love you, mamacita, — he murmured.

— I love you too, papacito, — she said, and slept safe and warm in his strong arms.