Freya jolted upright, her full, heavy tits swinging wildly as she stumbled back with a sly smile.
She shot me a look that was equal parts exhaustion and mischief, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy red, her hair a tangled, sweat-dampened mess clinging to her neck and shoulders. "He.. he.. hee.." she chuckled, her voice hoarse from all the screaming, the begging, the way she'd cried out my name like a prayer.
"I-I'm gonna… feed my daughter…" She let out a breathless, almost drunken giggle, the sound throaty and thick, before snatching her bathrobe from the floor and tying it around herself with trembling fingers.
The silk did little to hide the glisten of sweat on her skin, the way her nipples still pressed against the fabric, hard and aching from all the attention.
Then she was gone, bolting out of the room, her bare feet slapping wetly against the hardwood, the sound echoing down the hall like a promise of more to come.
