Abir's smirk widened as Monika lay powerlessly in his arms, her muscular frame trembling from her eighth climax. Her tomboy haircut, with its short, tousled strands, clung to her sweat-drenched forehead, her big breasts heaving with each ragged breath, their dark, hardened nipples glistening with perspiration. Her big, firm buttocks quivered against the carpet, her muscular legs splayed weakly, her pussy still dripping with the evidence of her exhaustion. The room buzzed with tension as Abir's eyes darkened with a primal intent, revealing the true nature he had kept restrained—a savage dominance that now surged to the surface.
"Now it's my turn," he growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. He flipped Monika onto her back, her body yielding under his iron grip, and entered her with a brutal thrust, the wet heat of her pussy clenching around his cock. Monika's moan—"Ahh, Abir!"—a raw, desperate cry, her big breasts bouncing violently as he pounded into her, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating through the room.
Abir mounted her with earth-shattering force, his cock ramming deep into her soaked cunt, the carpet fibers scraping her muscular back raw, leaving red welts. Her scream—"Ohh, yes, you beast!"—pierced the air, her big breasts jiggling wildly, the salty sweat pouring from her brow and dripping onto the damp carpet, the musky scent of her arousal thickening the humid atmosphere, her first breaking point hitting with a violent shudder.
He dragged her to the wall, pinning her against the rough plaster, its texture biting into her skin as he thrust with relentless fury, his shaft stretching her pussy. Her moan—"Mmm, harder, you savage!"—turned into a trembling wail, her big buttocks slamming against the cool wall, the contrast igniting a shiver, her second breaking point crashing through, the tangy aroma of her sweat mingling with the room's heat.
Abir hoisted her onto the dining table, its wood groaning under the assault, the surface slick with her juices as he rammed her with bone-crushing depth. Her cry—"Ahhh, don't stop, you monster!"—echoed, her big breasts flattened against the table, the wood creaking with each thrust, the salty taste of her perspiration on her lips, her third breaking point a hoarse scream that faded into a gasp.
He bent her over a chair, its frame splintering under the force as he hammered into her with apocalyptic power, the wet slap of his hips against her big buttocks resonating. Her shout—"Yes, you brute, more!"—her fourth breaking point a guttural roar, her big breasts swaying, the chair's leather cushion soaking up her sweat, the earthy scent of her exertion filling the space.
Abir threw her to the carpet, grinding into her with savage speed, the damp fibers clinging to her muscular thighs, his cock plunging deep into her quivering pussy. Her moan—"Ohh, Abir, you fiend!"—her fifth breaking point a desperate cry, her big breasts mashed into the floor, the pungent odor of her submission overwhelming, her body trembling under his unyielding assault.
Monika's pleas began, her voice weakening. "Please, Abir, stop… I can't take more!" she begged, her tomboy hair plastered to her face, her big breasts and buttocks shuddering with each thrust. But Abir's rage ignored her cries, his true nature driving him onward with merciless intent.
He lifted her to a low ceiling beam, wrapping her muscular legs around him, ramming with thunderous force, the wood creaking ominously. Her whimper—"No, please, you demon!"—her sixth breaking point a fractured sob, her big breasts heaving against his chest, the salty sweat dripping onto the floor, the room echoing with the wet thud of their collision.
Abir pulled her to the sofa's edge, grinding into her with relentless depth, the leather squeaking under her weight, her pussy stretched to its limit. Her plea—"Ahh, mercy, you tyrant!"—her seventh breaking point a hoarse gasp, her big buttocks quivering, the tangy scent of her juices soaking the cushion.
He twisted her onto her side on the carpet, pounding with earth-shattering fury, the fibers rubbing her skin raw. Her faint cry—"Stop, please, you savage!"—her eighth breaking point a weak moan, her big breasts jiggling, the damp carpet saturated with their combined fluids, the air thick with her defeated aroma.
Abir mounted her again, crushing her into the carpet with apocalyptic force, his cock driving deep. Her final whimper—"No more… please…"—faded into silence as her ninth breaking point overwhelmed her, her body collapsing, barely conscious, her muscular frame limp, her big breasts and buttocks still, the room heavy with the raw odor of her submission.
Abir stepped back, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat and her juices. Rita rose from her seat, her voice cutting through the silence. "I think we all know who is the winner," she declared, her tone laced with awe. Aparna, Ela, Akhi, and Isha nodded in agreement, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and admiration, the air thick with the unspoken acknowledgment of Abir's dominance.