My fingers traced the puckered ring of Agatha's asshole, feeling the tight, unyielding muscle twitch beneath my touch.
She whimpered, her thighs trembling, her pregnant belly rising and falling with ragged breaths. The scent of her arousal—musky, sweet, heavy with need—filled the air, mixing with the earthy smell of the furs beneath her.
"What about this hole…" I murmured, my voice a dark rumble, my finger pressing just enough to make her gasp. "Is it loose enough?"
Agatha moaned, her fingers clawing at the furs, her nipples—dark, thick, erect—aching as they brushed against the rough fabric. "I—I don't know—" she whined, her voice trembling.
I pushed my finger a little deeper, feeling the resistance of her tight ring. "Oh…" I mused, my finger circling her entrance, "It's too tight." My other hand slid over her swollen belly, pressing in just enough to feel the baby shift inside.
