Poonam stayed exactly where Vijay left her—face down on his bed, knees wide, ass still tilted high like an offering that hadn’t been fully accepted yet. His cum was still leaking out of her in slow, thick pulses. Every tiny clench of her walls pushed another creamy bead free; it trickled down her swollen lips, over her clit, then dripped in heavy drops onto the white sheet below. The wet spot beneath her had grown dark and sticky, the size of a palm already.

She could feel every inch of what he’d done to her: the raw stretch, the deep ache where his cockhead had battered her cervix, the warm, heavy fullness still lingering inside even though he’d pulled out. Her thighs trembled from holding the position so long. Her nipples scraped the cotton with every ragged breath. And still—still—her cunt throbbed with fresh hunger.