Tianlong pulled his cock from Madam Xu's throat with a wet, prolonged 'schlorp'.
Saliva stretched between his shaft and her lips in thick, glistening strands that snapped and fell across her chin, running down her cheeks, pooling in the hollows of her neck. Her grey eyes were unfocused — glassy, red-rimmed, the pupils dilated so wide the iris had nearly vanished. Her chest heaved. Her enormous tits strained against the torn silk robes, the nipples so hard they tented the fabric in two sharp points.
She gasped. Her first full breath in minutes. The air burned her raw throat.
"Please," she croaked. Her voice was wrecked — hoarse, broken, the sound of a woman whose throat had been used for an hour straight. "Please — I — I apologize — I apologize for my son — for — for striking you — please — let me go —"
