**”Tight Fit”**

Lidija and I had been dancing around this tension for weeks. We’d met at the gym, where she always “accidentally” needed help adjusting the machines, her tight yoga pants leaving nothing to the imagination. But tonight, after a late workout, she texted me: *“My back’s killing me. Think you could give me a massage?”*

I knew damn well what she was asking.

Her apartment smelled like vanilla and sweat, that intoxicating mix of effort and something sweet. She was already in a sports bra and tiny shorts when she let me in, her toned body glistening from her post-workout shower. “Just start wherever,” she said, tossing me the massage oil before lying face-down on the couch.

I warmed the oil between my palms, then dragged my hands down her spine, feeling the knots in her muscles. She moaned into the cushion, arching slightly. “God, your hands are magic,” she mumbled. I let my fingers drift lower, skimming the waistband of her shorts. She didn’t stop me.

I pulled the fabric down just enough to expose the curve of her ass, kneading the firm flesh. Her skin was warm, her breaths coming faster. When my thumb brushed the edge of her thong, she exhaled sharply. “Keep going,” she whispered.

I slid my hand under the fabric, my fingers finding her pussy already wet. She gasped as I traced her slit, her hips lifting off the couch. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” I growled. She pushed back against my hand, her ass pressing into me.

I flipped her onto her back, her shorts yanked down her thighs. Her pussy glistened, her clit swollen under my touch. She spread her legs wider, biting her lip as I circled her entrance with two fingers. “Please,” she begged.

I pressed in slowly—*fuck*, she was tight. Her pussy clamped around my fingers as I curled them inside her, her back arching off the couch. “Y-you’re stretching me,” she whimpered, her thighs shaking.

I didn’t stop. I added a third finger, working her open, her cunt gripping me with every thrust. She came with a sharp cry, her hips bucking, her pussy pulsing around my hand.

But I wasn’t done.

I unbuckled my belt, my cock hard and thick, already leaking. Her eyes locked onto it, her tongue darting over her lips. “You sure you can take it?” I asked, stroking myself.

She hooked her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “Just go slow,” she breathed.

I lined up, my tip pressing against her soaked entrance. The head popped in, and she gasped, her nails digging into my arms. “*Fuck*, you’re tight,” I groaned, sinking deeper inch by inch. Her pussy squeezed me like a vise, her walls fluttering as I bottomed out.

I held still, letting her adjust, her breaths ragged against my neck. “Move,” she finally begged.

I pulled back, then thrust hard. She cried out, her back arching, her cunt gripping me even tighter. I fucked her slow at first, relishing the way she stretched around me, her pussy slick but still so goddamn snug. Every thrust dragged a moan from her lips, her hips rolling to meet mine.

“Harder,” she panted, her legs locking around me.

I obeyed, slamming into her, the couch creaking beneath us. Her pussy clenched with every deep stroke, her nails raking down my back. I could feel her getting even wetter, her walls fluttering as she neared another climax.

“I’m gonna cum,” she gasped, her thighs trembling.

I reached between us, rubbing her clit in rough circles. She shattered instantly, her pussy milking my cock as she screamed my name. The sensation tipped me over—I rammed into her one last time, my orgasm slamming through me as I filled her.

We collapsed together, sweaty and breathless, her tight cunt still clenching around my softening cock.

“We’re doing that again,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smirk.

*Fuck yeah, we are.*