Her body convulsed.
Her back arched so violently it lifted entirely from the pool edge, her shoulder blades leaving the stone, her whole frame bowing upward in a rigid spasm that pressed her tits hard into his face. Her pussy clamped down on his shaft with a grip that would have stopped a lesser man entirely, the walls contracting in rapid, rolling pulses around the cock buried to her womb.
Tianlong felt it. He pulled out.
Completely.
The sudden absence was catastrophic.
Fanxue made a sound that had no precedent in her two hundred years of existence — a short, wrecked, confused cry of loss, her stretched pussy lips clinging to the departing shaft for one desperate moment before the suction broke with an audible, wet sound.
Then she squirted.
