The stone chamber reeked of sweat, seed, and sin.
Viktor's hips never broke their brutal, metronomic rhythm against Riahana's obliterated ass.
Her brown, stretched ring clung to his cock like a desperate, filthy kiss every time he pulled back — the taut rim dragging outward, refusing to release him, foam-slicked and trembling.
Then he switched.
One smooth, predatory shift.
He hauled Riahana up by her thick waist, her heavy tits swinging wide and slapping her ribs as her body left the floor like a ragdoll.
He dropped her onto the edge of the bed.
She landed stomach-down across the rotting mattress frame, her plump, dimpled ass jutting over the edge at the perfect angle — quivering, still gaping, still leaking a ring of white cream around her stretched rim.
He turned.
The old woman was still on her knees.
Still shaking.
Her gray-wisp pubic hair visible beneath the hem of her hiked, ruined skirts.
Her bony thighs pressed together.
