Floor creaks under her spine. Thighs clamp around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders. Every thrust sends her tits bouncing. He flips her onto her stomach, grips her hips, and drives in relentless. Her muffled moans muffled by the couch cushion—wet slap of skin on skin, sweat slick between their bodies—she arches back, pushes into it, takes it until her legs shake and the rug is soaked.