He slammed into her, his rod filling her, her moan loud, desperate, her cave clenching, the bed rocking with his thrusts, his pace relentless, her legs trembling on his shoulders, her golden hair wild across the pillow, the orbs' faint hum a distant pulse.
"Oh, fuck, Alex!" Sylra moaned, her voice breaking, her cave pulsing around his rod, his thrusts deep, steady, her moans a frantic rhythm—high, needy, filling the room.
"Don't stop," she gasped, her hands reaching for him, nails digging into his arms, her body arching, the lamp's light casting her flushed face in stark relief, her climax building again, her moans peaking, raw, her cave clenching as she came, her body shuddering, her moan echoing, long and satisfied, her golden hair a tangled halo.
