Her fat ass clapped back against his pelvis in thick, generous waves — the full weight of it rippling outward on impact, jiggling in the physics of real flesh meeting real force rather than any decorative intent. The sound was obscene and wet and the carpet absorbed none of it.
Her hairy cunt stretched around him with obscene visibility — dark, swollen lips dragging backward on every pull, snapping forward on every push, creamy white froth building at the base where her body was producing faster than gravity could clear it. Milk hit the carpet in steady drips from both nipples, perfectly timed to his thrusts, the 'let-down reflex has synchronized with being fucked' biology of a woman whose body had completely reorganized its priorities.
PAH! PAH!
"HNGH~!! HIIEEK~!! Master— it's tearing me again— 'why does it feel good when it tears—'!!"
She didn't expect an answer. Her body already had one.
Rihana pressed in from his left.
