Her spine snapped off the sand.
Her untouched slit sprayed a high, clear fountain of juice into the air while the brand on her chest blazed a blinding, searing level four red.
He yanked his softening length free.
Stepping over, he jammed his tip into Nara's hollow tunnel, pumping a secondary, thick load of sticky white fluid against her deepest walls, cementing his permanent claim over her biology.
Gia's glazed, rolling eyes begged for her share.
He obliged, stuffing his aching shaft into her dark, ruined hole. The final, throbbing spurts filled her empty cavity to the brim, until the excess cream began to bubble and leak from her puckered rim in a thick, frothy mess.
The brutal, two-hour marathon finally ceased.
The silver moon hung dead center in the sky. The three women lay scattered across the churned sand, their minds obliterated, muscles twitching involuntarily against the chill of the ocean breeze.
Celia's eyes rolled shut.
