PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! YOUNG MASTER~!! HNGH~!! PLEASE~!!"
The soap foam had built.
Around the point where his cock entered Marta — the lather working itself into a thick, white froth that coated the base of his shaft and her entrance simultaneously, producing a wet, obscene sound on every thrust that was somehow more indecent than the thrusting itself.
Viktor looked down at it.
His mouth curved.
He slammed once more — deliberate, deep, driving the full length through the foam and into the soft, vice-tight grip of a woman whose body had apparently been 'lying' about having no sensations for a decade — and watched the foam compress and spread at the impact.
Marta made a sound directly into the stone wall.
It was not a professional sound.
