The room is quieter now—Erica reaches for the remote on the nightstand, thumb pressing the power button once. The TV screen goes dark with a soft click, cutting off the last lingering moans and wet slaps mid-breath. Silence rushes in, broken only by the faint crackle of dying wax, the slow rhythm of their breathing, and the distant hum of the city far below.
Both of them feel the heavy pull of sleep settling into their limbs—bodies spent, slick with layers of oil, sweat, cum, and her endless arousal. Erica turns toward Haruto—still naked, skin shining faintly in the low candle glow—and slides down beside him on the ruined sheets. Her pussy is still warm and wet—lips swollen, entrance flushed and leaking the last slow drips of his cum in creamy white trails that run down her inner thighs and smear across the mattress when she moves.
