The last thrust came like a verdict.
PHAAAAACK—
Both women seized.
Their linked hands tore apart from the impact — the knuckle-white grip finally breaking, their fingers splaying against the rock, their whole bodies lurching forward with the force of the final stroke like two trees hit by the same axe.
"KYAAAAAAANGHH~!!!!"
"AAAAAANGHH~!!!!"
The sound hit the treeline.
It hit Edda in the chest.
She felt it — physically felt it, the way you feel a bell struck close, the vibration conducting through the branch under her feet and up her legs and into her sternum. Her tits swayed with it, the fabric of the skirt pressing forward against her nipples, both of which had been stiff since the second chorus of screaming and were not getting less so.
She thought: 'wait.'
She thought: 'she would tear apart.'
