Jasmine's husband stared at his wife—her pussy dripping, her cum-soaked thighs glistening, her back arched in post-orgasmic bliss—his eyes bulging, red and bloodshot, veins popping in his forehead as his body trembled violently. His mouth hanging open, no words coming out—just a broken, gurgling moan:
"I....aaaa—" His voice cracked, raw and choked, his chest heaving like a dying animal, his fingers clawing at the air—useless, pathetic.
Jasmine smirked—slow, cruel—her pussy pulsing with the aftermath of her orgasm, my cum still leaking from her womb. She lifted herself up—deliberate, taunting—forcing another torrent of squirt to erupt from her pussy, soaking the floor—and splashing directly onto her husband's face.
"Aaaaaah—!" He gasp-choked, his body jerking as the hot, sticky spray hit his cheeks, his lips, his eyes—his own wife's filth marking him in his final moments.
I released the Telekinesis from his body—just like that.
THUD.
