Victor flipped me onto my back again—rough hands on my hips, spinning me like I weighed nothing. My body hit the couch cushions with a thud, air rushing out of my lungs in a gasp. The fabric stuck to my sweaty skin, damp from tears and drool, the faint musty smell of the old upholstery mixing with the sharp tang of sex that filled the room. My ass burned from the stretch and thrusts, hole clenching around nothing, still leaking lube and my own wetness in slow, warm trickles that ran down the cleft and pooled under me. My pussy throbbed—swollen, raw, dripping from the overstimulation, every pulse sending fresh...