I remember the first time a girl put her fingers in my pussy, I was so scared to let her. Things still felt incredibly raw even three months into healing, like the slightest misstep could damage something. It felt like an inconsiderate or brash hand might rip or tear something. And I was so afraid I didn’t look healed enough to actually be pretty to her. Things still felt swollen, and the scars weren’t yet faded. But she laid me down on her bed, the spring sun streaming in the window, and she shushed my protests with a kind and knowing tone. She’d gotten a neopussy a year and a half before me, she’d be careful. So there I was, laying down and looking up at her smiling between my ever so slightly shaking legs. She had lube on her fingers and she leaned into me slowly, with her whole body, resting her other arm on my right knee as she came closer to me. Then she was in, and although I’d been fingered anally before, nothing prepared me for how large and detailed her fingers felt in me. The sensation was so vivid that I couldn’t help but picture precisely where they were in me, what shape they curled into. I could feel so perfectly I might as well have had x-ray vision. She smiled at my surprise. Then she watched me begin to relax. And that’s when she began that caress, that coaxing with her fingers that I had performed on others so often. The pleasure was beyond description except as waves and waterfalls and the desperate powerless need for her not to stop. My eyes were so wide, and I felt just like porcelain being painted by a master craftsman.
