Patricia lay beneath me, a beautiful ruin, her body gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat in the low light. Her breath came in soft, hitching sighs, her well-used pussy still fluttering around my slowly softening cock in the last aftershocks of her climax.
The air was thick with the musky, sweet scent of sex and satisfaction.
I withdrew from her with a soft, wet sound, and she murmured contentedly, already drifting into a sated sleep. I covered her gently with a throw blanket, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments before.
My work with her was complete. But the night was far from over.
My gaze, sharp and hungry, found Madison. My queen.
She had watched the entire spectacle with a mixture of awe and burning anticipation, her own need evident in the flush on her chest and the way her hands nervously smoothed down her skirt.
