Priya drove home in a daze.

The clinic’s examination table still felt imprinted on her ass—cold vinyl, the faint crinkle of paper sheet, the way her thighs had trembled when Victor pulled out and watched his thick cum ooze from her stretched cunt like proof of ownership. She could still taste him on her tongue—salty, musky, forbidden. Her salwar was damp at the crotch; she’d tried to wipe herself with tissues in the clinic bathroom, but every bump in the road made fresh trickles leak out, soaking her panty and the car seat beneath her.