He stayed buried inside her for a long moment, both drenched in sweat, her back rising and falling in ragged gasps. Her fingers weakly clutched at his forearm, which was still wrapped tightly around her waist.
Sol chuckled darkly, nipping at her earlobe as he finally pulled out slowly—her inner muscles clenched futilely around the emptiness, a lewd pop echoing in the silence as his cock slipped free. A thick stream of cum mixed with some other fluids trickled from her gaping entrance, pooling between her thighs. She whimpered at the sudden loss of fullness, her body twitching like a gutted fish on the furs.
He turned to look at his handiwork. Her limbs were sprawled in total disarray, her skin flushed and marked, her expression one of absolute, decimated bliss. A part of him wanted to do so much more. His mind raced with images of other positions… bending her over in the Flatiron, taking her from behind in a feral doggy style, watching her bounce on him.
