Mabel's POVHe pushes into me from behind, one long, relentless thrust, and the angle is so deep, that my hands grip the arm of the couch, and a silent cry tears from my throat.He's thicker from this angle, a brutal stretch that makes me feel split in two. His cockhead grinds against a spot deep inside, a hidden, devastating trigger that makes my legs shake uncontrollably.He grabs a handful of my hair, winding it around his fist, and pulls my head back, but gently now, conscious of my proximity to Mom. My face is inches from hers. I can smell her night cream, a soft lavender scent, and the stale wine on her breath. He drapes the blanket over my body, covering my back and his hips. He fucks me bent over the couch arm with a deep, grinding brutality that makes the couch groan against the floor.His hips slam against my ass, the slap of flesh on flesh muffled by the blanket."You want to know how many times I've pictured this?" he whispers, his voice a guttural rasp directly in my ear
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