My cock kept pulsing, thick ropes of cum hammering into Jasmine's womb with obscene, wet slaps. She whimpered, her pussy clenching around me like a fist, her thighs trembling as she tried—and failed—to lift herself off me.
Then—
"Jasmine… Jasmine… where are you?"
The voice was male. Close.
Jasmine's entire body froze.
Her cunt locked around my cock, her walls strangling me so tight I hissed. "It's—it's my husband—" Her voice was a choked whisper, her nails digging into my chest.
Emily's grin was pure venom.
She moved like a shadow behind the door—hiding, but not before mouthing at me: "Don't. Fucking. Move."
The footsteps grew louder.
"Jasmine?" The voice was closer now, laced with confusion. "I heard—are you okay?"
