Her ass — the full, heavy, soft-flesh quality of it receiving the impact, the ripple of each clap moving through it in the specific, natural, physics-honest way significant flesh responds to a hard thrust, jiggling forward with the impact, settling, receiving the next.
Her breast — bouncing.
The unmanaged, pendulum, heavy quality of it — swinging forward with each 'PAH', settling, swinging again. The weight of it moving independently, obeying only gravity and momentum, the thick, full, warm bounce of a breast that size responding to the pace of a man fucking her ass against the wall of a Vienna mansion.
'PAH! PAH! PAH!'
The sounds arrived in the hall with the flat, frank, undeniable quality of what they were. Not the subtle, pressurized 'schlkk' of the earlier rhythm. This — this was the sound of flesh meeting flesh at pace, repeatedly, the way it sounds when someone is using someone properly against a wall.
"NNNGHH~~!! AH—!! AHHH—!!"
