They lay entwined for a fleeting heartbeat, sweat-slicked skin fused, his cock still buried deep, a pulsing, thick anchor in the molten sea of their shared ecstasy, his cum a warm, viscous flood branding her insides, coating her walls, leaking in slow, creamy rivulets.
Their breaths wove a ragged symphony, her pulse a deafening roar, his heartbeat a primal drum against her chest.
Patricia's body was a living tapestry—the deep, aching throb of countless orgasms, bruises blooming like dark constellations, her pussy stretched impossibly around his rigid length, a soul-shattering fullness that drowned twenty-three years of emptiness.
She was complete, seen, whole.
Then—a slow, seismic throb pulsed inside her. Not hers. His. His cock, still hilted, hardened, thickened, lengthened, a terrifying, exhilarating rebirth that stretched her already-ruined pussy further, walls screaming, nerves igniting.
