And she had. Gods, she really had.
Somewhere in those forty-seven hours, between the screaming and crying and begging, she'd transformed. Her body had learned to crave this, to need this, to 'excel' at this.
Every bounce was perfection—angle optimized to take him deepest, rhythm timed to build pleasure slowly, hip movements fluid and sensual.
He'd trained her thoroughly. Rewarded obedience with gentle touches and praise. Punished hesitation with roughness and denial. Classical conditioning applied to sex until her body responded instinctively to his desires.
"Switch," he commanded suddenly.
And without missing a beat, without question, she obeyed.
Lianhua lifted herself off his cock—a wet schlick as her pussy released him—and in one fluid motion, pivoted.
Her hands shot out, gripping his ankles for balance as she repositioned herself. Her hips tilted forward, ass raised, and then—
PAAAH!
"HHNNNGH~~!!"
