Page 7 of The Darkest Hour

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Page 7 of The Darkest Hour

“But first. . .strip,” I commanded, leaving no room for hesitation.

They submitted, the delicate lace cascading down their bodies to unveil their exposed, quivering breasts and glistening pussies, ready for the pleasures to come.

Mmmm.

My gaze never left theirs. “Get on the bed.”

They moved as one.

Smiling, I approached the bed.

One of the women lay back and spread her legs.

The plastic cover rippled.

She looked up with a half-lidded gaze. “What would you like to do first, sir?”

I got on the bed, leaned over her and trailed my hand down her body. My voice lowered into a dangerous growl. “I want to tie you up first.”

She whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” I grabbed the red silk rope from the woman holding the length out to me and secured the one laying on the bed by her wrists to the bedposts.

She gasped and arched her body in response.

The other women watched, their breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts.

“You,” I pointed to one of them, “come here.”

“Yes, sir.” She crawled towards me.

“Touch her.” I pointed to the bound woman. “Make her moan. A lot.”

Soon, she began to caress the woman’s body, exploring every inch, and her fingers moved with practiced skill, eliciting gasps and whimpers from the bound woman.

Without my ordering her, a third woman joined in, her lips trailing down the bound woman’s neck, over her breasts, and lower still until she was lapping at her plump clit.

A dark groan left me.

I gazed at the fourth woman. “Come here and take out my cock.”

“Yes, sir.” She hurried over, sank to her knees, and reached out her hands for my belt.

A wicked smirk spread across my face.

I watched with a predatory hunger as her fingers worked skillfully to unbuckle my belt.

Her gaze never left mine.

I looked over at the bound woman once more, her body writhing under the relentless assault of pleasure brought on by the other two.

I licked my lips.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate with every passing second. The sight of her vulnerability and heightened pleasure fueled my own desire.

As the kneeling woman unlatched my belt and freed the bulge straining against my pants, the heat of her touch sent a jolt of hungry need through me.

Her hands were smooth and confident as they brushed against the fabric of my boxer briefs, pulling them down to reveal my swollen length.




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