The name, the first time she said it, came out in pieces. Broken by the thrusts. Each bounce, each descent onto his cock, drove the air from her lungs and the words from her mouth.
He turned her. In the air. The rotation, the spinning of her body on his cock, was disorienting. Her face, which had been toward him, was now away. Her back, wet and pale, was against his chest. Her ass, the thick mature cheeks, was against his pelvis. His cock, still inside, was now hitting from behind. The angle, the 'from-behind-while-standing' angle, was deeper.
He pressed her forward. Her hands, tied, found the edge of the tub. She leaned. Her breasts, heavy and swinging, hung over the marble rim. The nipples, stiff and sensitive, scraped the cool stone. The friction, the 'my-nipples-are-rubbing-against-marble-while-I-am-being-fucked' friction, was maddening.
PAH. PAH. PAH.
"AAAAHH—♡♡♡!! STOP—♡♡♡!! THE—♡♡!! MARBLE—♡♡♡!! MY—♡♡!! BOOBS—♡♡♡!!"
