Then a lazy, thick trail, slipping down the valley between her bruised cheeks.
She couldn't even speak.
Only gasp.
Cheek still mashed to the ruined pillow, face dazed and flushed. Her eyes were barely open, plump lips parted. Her tits lay squashed beneath her weight, rising and falling with shallow, wrecked breaths, the dark areolas peeking past the ruined corset.
Her back arched low.
Her hips stayed up.
And her hole stayed open—ruined, twitching, leaking the evidence of her submission.
His cum still oozed from the used, puffy ring, a creamy line trailing down to the soft backs of her thighs.
She whimpered once.
A weak, pathetic moan.
"Aaahhhhh....."
But he didn't stop.
Didn't even let her drop flat onto the messy bed.
Not when he saw the time.
Five minutes left.
