<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">By the time he was shoving the third finger into her, Ayla was half bent over the armrest, clinging onto it for dear life as she moaned, hair falling out of the loose ponytail and hanging loose around her face. It wasn’t long before she came again, her upper body hanging mid air as her thighs slammed into the arm of the chair, body shaking as her nails sank into the soft wood. From the sheer force of their fucking, a loud crack echoed throughout the room and it took Ayla a moment to realize she was now on the floor, him still on the couch. She rolled over with a groan, looking up at him, unable to form any witty thought in her head like she would have in a similar situation. Instead, she just laughed, playfully pushing herself backwards on the floor.</span>