The rain had stopped sometime after midnight. The last of the storm dripped from the eaves in slow irregular ticks against the window glass. Inside the master bedroom the air hung heavy with sweat and sex and the faint metallic tang of the marks I had left on her skin.
I had taken her three more times after the first. Slow at first then harder then slow again when her voice broke into broken little gasps. Her body learned the shape of me. The soft give of her belly under my palm. The heavy bounce of her breasts when I drove her into the mattress from behind.
The way her thick thighs trembled and clamped around my waist when she came. Milk beaded and spilled whenever I sucked or pinched. Cum leaked out of her in thick ropes every time I pulled free only to be pushed back in on the next thrust.
