The belly bulge.
The honest, hentai-true displacement of her lower abdomen with each thrust — the outline of him pressing against the soft, chubby brown skin of her belly from the inside, the shape of his cockhead visible through her own body — and she looked down at it.
At her own belly.
Moving.
"Oh—" The sound of someone who has just received information they did not have a category for. "Oh — that — that is—"
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
"AAANGHH~!! AAAHH~!! HE'S IN MY — RAVEN — YOU'RE IN MY—"
His face above her.
The warm, unhurried expression of a man who has noted the belly bulge and is filing it under 'satisfactory.'
"Tight," he said. "Still tight."
"OF COURSE I AM TIGHT—"
PAH!
"AAANGHH~!!"
"—I HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR SIX HOURS—"
PAH! PAH!
"HNGH~!! STOP — NOT SO — RAVEN—"
"Six hours," he said, pulling back slowly and driving forward in one long, deep stroke, "is not an argument."
PAAAH!
"IAAAANGHH~!!"
The bed frame.
