The worship of my thighs was intoxicating, but it was only the overture to the filthier hymn about to be sung. They could feel the molten need throbbing through me, a low, savage drumbeat pounding straight into their slick, aching cunts.
The air grew thick and heady, spiked with the heavy musk of my pheromones—a silent, brutal command that turned their panties into soaked ruins and made their clits throb like exposed nerves.
Sofia was the first to break. Her circular glassy, wet cute eyes locked on the massive, rigid column of my cock—veined, angry, and already dripping—jutting up from my groin like a weapon. With a broken, desperate whimper that sounded like surrender, she lunged forward.
Her first contact wasn't with her hands. It was her hot, worshipful mouth sealing over the swollen, leaking massive crown.
