"it's still flowing," she muttered, watching Altair's thick, heavy seed stream out from between her legs. It seemed nearly unending, pooling at her feet.
When she looked up towards the mirror of her bathroom, her lewd smile reflected across her eyes. She was stunned, touching the mirror then her lips.
She was smiling.
Her breasts were tender and raw from his touch, carrying his firm imprint where he'd groped, touched, and kissed. Similarly, bruises ran across her body.
Syris nearly didn't even recognize herself. She had never smiled the way she was now. And her loins had never ached as much as it was now. It was a good ache, one that made her smile all the more sublime.
