Inside the sanctuary of Diana's bedroom, the atmosphere was a bizarre cocktail of high tension, arousal, and domestic frustration. The heavy, rhythmic THWACK SQUELCH THWACK of Rex's relentless thrusting vibrated through the floorboards, making the fine china on Diana's vanity rattle like tiny, porcelain bells.
Diana sat on the edge of her bed, her hands pressed tightly against her ears, her face a mask of pure, exasperated annoyance. Every time a particularly loud SLAP of flesh echoed through the walls, she winced as if she had been physically struck herself.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH! REX! YES! RIGHT THERE! OH GOD, CUMMING! CUMMING AGAIN!" Elizabeth's voice tore through the air, a high-pitched, manic shriek that seemed to vibrate the very air in the room.
"Oh, for the love of everything holy!" Diana snapped, throwing her hands up in the air.
She glared at the ceiling as if she could personally scold Rex through the plaster. "Is there any end to it? It's been countless hours now!"
