Chapter 7

After saying goodbye to Bethany, I realise I need to make plans for lunchtime with Gemma. I turn back towards the infirmary and see Mrs Simmons sitting in her chair staring at the couch that I’d fucked Bethany on. Her mind is obviously still reeling from what she saw happening moments earlier.

“Mrs Simmons,” I say, startling her.

“Uh, yes,” she replies.

“I need to carry out a healing session at lunchtime but that means I won’t have time to get anything to eat at the cafeteria,” I inform her. “If I meet you here in the infirmary at lunch. Could you please get me some sandwiches? I’ll pay you back.”

“No need to pay me back. You are healing me tonight, its the least I can do.” Her eyes twinkle as she smiles at me.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she says.

I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek, surprising her. She looks at me wide eyed as I leave the infirmary.

As I stride to my third-period math class, the corridor seems to stretch on forever, the faces of the students blurring into an indistinguishable mass. All I can think about is the challenge that lies ahead: convincing them all that what I’ve done is natural, that the pleasure I’ve introduced them to is a divine gift. I know I have the power to make them believe, to make them crave more.

When I enter the classroom, the atmosphere is thick with the scent of curiosity and anticipation. Angela Clarke’s eyes meet mine, a knowing spark in their depths. She remembers the sweet taste of her own arousal on my lips, the way I coaxed her body into releasing its sacred nectar. I give her a subtle nod, acknowledging our shared secret, and she blushes, her eyes dropping to the desk. The other students shift in their seats, unaware of the transformation that occurred today.

I sit down next to her, my leg brushing against hers as I settle in. She’s wearing a skirt, the warmth of her skin sends a shiver down my spine. I can feel her thigh tense as I lean closer, my hand casually resting on the desk between us. She glances up at me, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. I smile, a soft, reassuring curve of my lips, and she relaxes slightly.

I see Philip Mace at a desk near the front talking to his girlfriend Stephanie Scott, who is sitting next to him. The cute girl has a confused look on her face, obviously puzzled by whatever Phil is talking to her about. I hope the fool isn’t trying to explain sex to her. I also hope the weekend’s experiences haven’t damaged him. It was so much fun though, the memories of fucking and impregnating the four females in his family causes my cock to harden. I won’t be able to check on Phil at lunch though, I have a date with Gemma.

The bell rings, and Mr. Stewart starts droning on about algebra, but I’m only half-listening. My gaze keeps straying to Angela, her hair a cascade of brown waves that frames her flushed cheeks. She’s so beautiful, so ripe for the taking. But I’ve learned patience in the two decades I’ve spent perfecting my machine. I know that the anticipation is part of the thrill, the slow build-up to the crescendo of pleasure that awaits us both.

So, when she shifts in her seat, I simply slide closer, my arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her into the warmth of my body. She stiffens for a moment, but I just squeeze gently, letting her know that it’s all part of the healing process. She relaxes against me, her body fitting against mine like a puzzle piece. Her sweet scent fills my nostrils, and I feel my manhood stir, but I push the thought away. For now, I’m her guardian, her protector, not her lover.

Whispering in my ear, her voice a soft caress, “Thank you for today. I’ve never felt so alive, so ... free.”

I smile, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. A few pupils around us give us odd looks, obviously puzzled by our strange behavior. “You’re welcome, Angela. I’m here to help you in any way that I can.”

Her eyes, a deep, soulful brown, lock onto mine, the desire in them unmistakable. “What you did to me earlier ... it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” she confesses, her voice low and breathless. “Nothing comes close to the sensations, I ... I liked it. A lot.”

“I’m here to heal,” I murmur back, my own voice a seductive purr that sends a shiver down her spine. “And I’m so glad that my treatment has had such a profound effect on you.” I lean in closer, my breath hot against her neck, and she shivers again, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips. “You’re welcome, Angela. Anytime you need me, I’ll be here for you.”

The words hang in the air between us, charged with meaning. She knows what I’m offering, and she wants it. Desperately. But she’s not ready yet. I need to bide my time, to let her come to me willingly.

“Gemma,” Angela whispers, her voice barely audible over the drone of Mr. Stewart’s lecture. “You’re meeting her at lunch? In the gym?”

Her eyes are wide with excitement, and I can feel the heat of her body pressed against mine. She’s leaning in so close that her breath tickles my ear, and the scent of her arousal is intoxicating. I nod, my lips curving into a knowing smile. “Yes,” I reply, my voice low enough for only her to hear. “It seems she’s in need of my ... special brand of healing.”

Angela’s cheeks color, but she doesn’t look away. “Can I ... be there?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. “I want to see it for myself. I want to understand what you do.”

I consider this for a moment, weighing the risks and rewards. Having Angela there could be risky, but it could also strengthen her bond to me, making her even more devoted. “Yes,” I finally agree, my voice a soft purr. “But only if Gemma agrees. It’s her healing, after all.”

I carry on cuddling her for rest of the rest of the lesson, stroking her side with my fingers. She blushes and periodically looks at me giving me eyes that seem to indicate she’s falling in love with me.

Lunchtime arrives, and Angela follows, walking with me as we make our way to the gym. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and antiseptic, the perfect cover for the heady scent of desire that I know will soon fill the room. I spot Gemma sitting on the bench, her knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes darting around nervously. She’s a stunning creature, her legs long and lean, her chest a perfect handful. Her innocence is a siren’s call to me, and I can’t wait to show her the wonders that await her.

Matt Davenport, the school’s basketball star, is there too. He cuts a tall figure at 6’5. His eyes narrow as he sees me approaching, his hand tightening around Gemma’s. I can feel the tension in the air, the jealousy rolling off him in waves. But he’s powerless against the might of my spirit and the knowledge I hold. He’s just a pawn in this grand scheme of mine, and I’ll use him to further my cause.

“Matt,” I call out, my voice a blend of friendliness and authority. “I see you’re keeping an eye on the lovely Gemma. How kind of you. But I’m afraid she requires my special attention today.”

Matt’s grip tightens, his nostrils flaring. He opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry,” I say, my voice soothing. “This is for her own good. Trust me.”

Gemma’s eyes widen, curiosity and hope mingling in their depths. “Can you really help me?” she asks, her voice trembling with excitement.

“Of course, Gemma,” I say, my hand moving to her shoulder. “Your backpain is just a blockage in your chi, a simple imbalance that I can fix with my spiritual healing techniques.”

Gemma looks up at me with a mix of hope and curiosity, her eyes wide with wonder. “What do you mean?” she asks, leaning into my touch.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” I say, my voice smooth as silk. “It’s just a blockage in your chi, your life force. But don’t you worry,” I add, giving her a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes, “I’ll take good care of you.”

Gemma’s eyes light up with hope, her grip on Matt’s hand loosening as she looks at me with newfound trust. “Really?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice filled with the authority of a man who knows he holds all the cards. “Your body is a complex machine, and sometimes things get out of alignment. But not ro worry,” I add with a wink, “I’ve spent years perfecting the art of chi healing. I can have you feeling like new in no time.”

Gemma looks at me with a mix of awe and desperation, and I know I’ve got her. I guide her to the gym equipment cupboard, away from prying eyes. Angela follows, her own curiosity piqued. She’s eager to see the power I wield, the way I can manipulate these innocents into giving me what I want. And what I want is simple: to spread my seed, to fill this world with my offspring, to watch as the power of my spirit grows with every new conquest.

Matt Davenport, the towering jock, trails behind us, his eyes narrowed with jealousy at me touching his girlfriend. He’s a problem, one that I’ll need to deal with eventually. But for now, I’ll keep him close, feed him just enough of my lies to keep him guessing. As we enter the cupboard, I feel a flicker of annoyance when I spot Chris Pickering, the talented javelin thrower who wants to date Angela, come into the equipment cupboard too. What does it mean for people to date in this world of no intimacy beyond talking and handholding? Its pathetic.

He’s been watching us, his eyes wide with curiosity. He’s been sniffing around since I started my little rituals, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Hey, sorry about my attitude earlier, I don’t know what came over me” Chris says, his voice too casual for his own good. “I just heard something about another healing session. Can I join?”

Matt nods in agreement, his jaw tightening as he stares at my hand on Gemma’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. I’d like to see what kind of experimental shit you’re trying on her. Everyone thinks you’re smart but I know you’re gonna fall on your ass.”

I smile, my teeth flashing in the dim light of the cupboard. “It’s not experimental, I assure you, I’ve used these techniques dozens of times with 100% success.” I say, keeping my voice light. “Its just a simple healing session.”

“But of course,” I continue, “you’re more than welcome to observe. But for the sake of modesty and focus, I’d prefer it if you both took a seat in the far corner.”

The two jocks exchange a skeptical look, but they comply, their curiosity overpowering their doubt. They slink to the back, their eyes never leaving us as I guide Gemma to the center of the small room. The gym mats that you lay her down on are comfortable enough, but the anticipation in the air is palpable, a silent symphony of lust and power.

“Now, Gemma,” I begin, my voice a low murmur, “I need you to relax. This will be a new experience for you, but it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Her eyes are wide with anticipation, her breath shallow and quick. She nods, her gaze never leaving mine as I lean over her, my hands hovering just above her body. “What do I do?” she asks, her voice a tremble.

“Just relax,” I murmur, my fingers beginning to trace gentle patterns in the air above her. “Let me guide you.”

Angela watches with bated breath from the sidelines, her eyes alight with excitement and curiosity. She’s eager to see if I can replicate the magic I worked on her. Her own transformation from a shy, insecure girl to a blossoming woman with newfound confidence is a testament to the power of my touch. She’s become a devoted disciple, ready to spread the word of my ‘healing’ abilities to anyone who’ll listen.

As my hands hover over Gemma, I can feel the energy between us building, the unspoken promise of what’s to come. She’s so innocent, so ripe for the plucking. I can see the questions in her eyes, the doubt and confusion, but beneath it all, there’s a yearning, a hunger that’s been lying dormant all her life. I’ll be the one to wake it, to show her the true meaning of pleasure.

I lightly graze her thighs with my fingertips, feather-light touches that make her gasp and arch her back. She’s deliciously sensitive,. Each touch sends a jolt of electricity through her body, and I can feel her mana responding, reaching out to me like a plant to the sun. It’s intoxicating, this power, and I revel in it.

Leaning down, I brush my lips against the soft skin of her neck, feeling the rapid pulse of her vein beneath. She gasps again, her body quivering with need. “What ... what are you doing?” she whispers, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement.

“I’m healing you,” I murmur, my breath hot against her ear. “Trust me.”

Matt clears his throat, his voice thick with tension. “Look, I don’t know what kind of new age spirituality shit you’re trying here, but you shouldn’t be doing that to her. That stuff doesn’t actually work.”

I look over at him, my gaze steady. “Matt,” I say calmly, “you don’t understand the depth of my spiritual practices. This isn’t something you can comprehend with your limited experience. But I assure you, it’s for her own good.”

Angela, sensing the tension, steps forward, her eyes gleaming with newfound confidence. “Chris, tell him,” she says, turning to the javelin thrower. “Tell him how I was cured.”

Chris shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flicking to Angela and then back to me. “It’s true,” he admits, his voice gruff. “Whatever he did ... it worked. I used to see her a little short of breath sometimes and she’d go into the bathrooms and be fine afterwards. Now, her ... her asthma, it’s gone. And she’s, well, she’s different. I’m not a stalker by the way, I was just concerned.” Chris added the last bit in hastily, worried how it might sound. He is infatuated with Angela.

Angela nods eagerly, her voice filled with passion as she recounts her transformation. “It’s true,” she says, her voice breathy with excitement. “Before he healed me, I needed my inhaler every couple of hours. But Steve ... touched me and put his lips on me, and suddenly, it was like the heavens parted. I’m able to breathe better than I have done for years, and I knew—I just knew—that I was healed.”

Matt’s eyes narrow, but he nods stiffly, his hand dropping from Gemma’s. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but the second Gemma feels uncomfortable with what you’re doing to her, I’m putting a stop to it.”

Ignoring his words, I focus on the task at hand. I kiss Gemma’s neck once more, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. My hands glide down to her thighs, the fabric of her skirt providing little resistance to my exploring touch. She gasps, her body arching upwards to meet my lips as I plant gentle kisses along her collarbone. Her skin is like silk under my touch, her breathing shallow and erratic.

My thumbs trace the soft skin of her inner thighs, moving ever closer to the hidden jewel between her legs. I can feel the heat radiating from her core, the sweet scent of her arousal filling the air. She’s like a virgin sacrifice, laid out before the altar of my desires, and I’m the high priest ready to claim his due.

Leaning down, I claim her mouth with mine, my tongue sliding between her parted lips. Her taste is wonderful, pure and innocent, yet tinged with the beginnings of passion. She’s tentative at first, her body stiff with unfamiliar sensations, but as my kiss deepens, she relaxes into it, her own curiosity taking over.

Her tentative hands come up to cup my cheeks, her nails digging in as she kisses me back with a fervor that surprises even me. It’s like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life, and now that it’s here, she’s not holding back.

Glancing up at Matt, I see the rage in his eyes, the way his fists are clenched tightly at his sides. But it’s not anger that fuels him—it’s jealousy, pure and simple. And arousal. And that combination, my friends, is the sweetest nectar for my mana. The more he watches, the more he wants what I have, and the more power I can draw from him. It’s a delicate dance, one that I’m getting better at.

Now, let’s get down to business. With a gentle tug, I start to remove Gemma’s shirt, my eyes never leaving hers. She’s lost in the moment, in the sensation of my fingers on her skin. Her bra comes next, and I can see the tips of her breasts peeking through the fabric, begging to be set free. The anticipation in the room is thick, like a fog of desire that wraps around us.

Matt’s eyes bulge as he watches me uncover her perfect body, but I know he’s torn between rage and the strange, unfamiliar feelings in his loins. The sight of a woman’s nakedness is something alien to him, something that makes his tiny micropenis quiver with a mix of confusion, envy and extreme arousal.

“Alright, enough of this,” he growls, taking a step towards us. “What kind of sick game is this?”

But before he can do anything, I hold up a hand, my voice ringing with an authority that seems to freeze him in his tracks. “Matt, this isn’t a game. It’s a sacred ceremony, one that will heal us all.”

The words roll off my tongue like a spell, and I can see the doubt flicker in his eyes. But the desire to protect his girlfriend is stronger, and his hands clench into fists. “Everyone, take your clothes off,” I repeat, my tone soothing yet commanding. “It’s part of the healing process.”

Slowly, reluctantly, they begin to comply. The room fills with the rustle of fabric and the sound of zippers being undone. Angela moves to stand beside me, her eyes shining with excitement and loyalty. She knows what’s about to happen, and she’s ready to be a part of it.

Chris is the first to strip down, his muscles rippling in the soft light. His micropenis hangs limply between his legs, a stark contrast to the monolithic force that is my own erection. I hide my smirk as he sits cross-legged on the other side of the room next to Matt, his eyes glued to the show unfolding before him.

Gemma’s eyes widen as she watches the two boys undress, but she doesn’t protest, her curiosity piqued by the promise of relief from her chronic pain. As she pulls her skirt and underwear off, I can’t help but appreciate the sight of her bare, untouched pussy, the fine hairs glistening with the dew of her arousal.

Her breasts are perfect, round and firm with pink nipples that tighten into little buds as the cool air of the gym hits them. She’s a goddess, a vision of purity in a world that knows nothing of passion, and I’m the one about to claim her.

Matt is the last to undress, his eyes never leaving the tent in my still covered crotch. His micropenis is barely noticeable, a pitiful excuse for a manhood that only fuels my own pride. As he sits, naked and exposed, I can see the mix of anger and despair in his eyes. But it’s not for me to pity him. This is the natural order of things, and I’m simply the catalyst that’s bringing it to light.

Finally, it’s time for the grand reveal. I stand up and pull down my underwear, my cock jutting out proudly, the only erection in the room. The four of them stare in awe, their eyes wide as saucers. They’ve never seen anything like it before, not in their wildest dreams. It’s like watching explorers discover a completely new animal, their wonder and confusion a delightful spectacle.

“Why is it so big?” Matt asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes glued to the monster between my legs. “What does it do?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his naivety. “It’s a gift,” I reply, stroking my shaft gently. “A gift from the divine, a symbol of power and vitality. And it’s about to bring you all something you’ve never felt before—true healing.”

“But what does it do?” Angela asks, her voice trembling with excitement.

“And why does it stand like that?” Gemma adds, her eyes wide with curiosity.

I lean down to whisper in her ear, my breath tickling her skin. “It’s all part of the ceremony, my dear. You’ll see.”

Gemma’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of my erection, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. She’s never seen anything so ... massive before, and it’s clear she has no idea what it’s capable of. But she trusts me, her spiritual healer, to guide her through this strange ritual.

“This,” I say, holding up my cock like a scepter, “is a tool of creation, a beacon of life. It holds the power to give without taking, to heal without the cold, sterile embrace of your world’s technology.”

They stare, transfixed by the alien appendage. “But how?” Chris asks, his voice still thick with skepticism.

“It’s a divine instrument,” I explain, “capable of creating life in a way your world has long forgotten. You see, for some reason I was born with the ability to implant the seeds of life into women. Women’s bodies are vessels of love and creation, capable of producing offspring through a sacred union.”

I watch as they process this information, their eyes darting between each other in confusion and fascination. “Did you dream this? How can you be sure that all this is correct?” Matt asks, his voice a mix of anger and curiosity.

“Why, Angela here is living proof,” I reply, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at me, her eyes filled with adoration. “Tell them, sweetheart.”

“It was the most incredible feeling of my life, nothing else compares. There isn’t anything that Steve can’t do.”

As she speaks, she glances down at my cock, her eyes wide with wonder. It’s clear she’s dying to know more, to understand how something so primal can bring such profound change. “And there was more,” she whispers, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “So much more.”

The two naked girls before me, Gemma and Angela, couldn’t be more different in their reactions. Gemma is all curiosity, her eyes glued to my cock as if it holds the answers to the universe’s secrets. Angela, on the other hand, is a picture of submission, her eyes filled with adoration as she speaks of her transformation.

Studying Angela’s body, I can’t help but admire the way the light dances across her curves. She’s not just a pretty face; she’s a living embodiment of feminine beauty, her breasts full and inviting, her stomach flat and her hips wide, perfect for childbearing. Her skin is flawless, unblemished by the harsh realities of a world that has forgotten the art of lovemaking.

Her brunette hair cascades over her shoulders, framing a face that could have been sculpted by the gods themselves. Her cheeks are dotted with dimples that deepen when she smiles, and her eyes sparkle with a mix of innocence and the promise of passion untapped. Her breasts are the size of ripe melons, the nipples dark and inviting, begging for my touch. Her stomach is toned but not overly so, a gentle slope leading down to the treasure that awaits me.

Gemma’s legs are long and shapely, the muscles defined from years of dance and gymnastics, but not so much that it detracts from her feminine charm. Her pussy is a delicate shade of pink, the sparse, fine hairs around it frame it nicely. As she sits before me, her knees slightly parted, I can see the slickness of her desire, the scent of her arousal a sweet perfume that fills the room and sends my own cock throbbing with need.

Her breasts are smaller than Angela’s, but no less beautiful. They’re the perfect handfuls, with tiny, pink nipples that harden into tight peaks as the cool air of the gym teases them. The sight of her bare skin sends a jolt of excitement through me, a thrill of power and lust that makes my cock pulse with eagerness.

Gemma’s eyes are a warm shade of brown, filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. They’re the kind of eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts, and as I gaze into them, I can see the depths of her soul. Her body is a canvas of beauty, and I can’t wait to leave my own indelible mark upon it.

Without a word, I lean in and kiss her again, my hand resting gently on the soft skin of her bare shoulder. This time, she doesn’t resist. Her lips are warm and yielding under mine, and as our tongues intertwine, I can feel her tension melt away. Her body relaxes into mine, her breasts pressing against my chest as she surrenders to the sensation. The kiss is deep and passionate, a silent promise of what’s to come.

I begin to kiss down her body, my lips tracing a path of fire along her neck and collarbone, pausing to nibble at the sensitive spot just behind her ear. Her breath hitches in her throat, and she arches into me, silently begging for more. My hand follows the curve of her spine, tracing the line of her back before coming to rest on her waist. Her skin is like velvet, smooth and soft, untouched by the harshness of the world outside this room.

As I reach her breasts, I take my time, teasing her nipples with my teeth before sucking them gently into my mouth. A soft moan escapes her, and her hand finds its way to the back of my head, urging me closer. The taste of her is intoxicating, a sweetness that I could drown in, a nectar that fuels my desire.

Her hips begin to rock slightly, and I know she’s getting close. I move my hand from her waist to the soft mound between her legs, my thumb finding her clit. I begin to rub it gently, feeling her body respond, her pussy growing wetter with every stroke. She’s so responsive, so eager for the pleasure that I alone can give her.

But then, something unexpected happens. Matt snaps, his eyes wild with rage. “That’s it,” he growls, and starts stomping towards me, his tiny micropenis bobbing in his hand. He’s had enough of watching his crush be claimed by the kid with the strange powers.

But as he crosses the invisible threshold of three meters, the sweet scent of Gemma’s arousal hits him like a wall. His expression changes from anger to one of absolute disgust, his face contorting as if he’s just stepped into a sewer. He stops dead in his tracks, his legs trembling. It’s a bizarre sight, seeing the normally stoic Matt reduced to this, but it’s a reminder of the unique rules of this world.

“What is that smell?” he chokes out, his hand flying to cover his nose.

Gemma’s eyes widen in shock and confusion as she looks down at her own body, realizing what’s happening. The scent of her arousal, so foreign to this world, has repulsed him. I can’t help but chuckle internally at the irony. “It’s the wonderful scent of a woman ready for her divine union,” I explain calmly, not breaking my rhythm as I continue to pleasure her. “It’s a sacred fragrance that only the world’s most powerful spiritual healer can bear. You smell wonderful, don’t listen to the stupid boy.” I look her in the eyes and kiss her.

Matt stumbles back, his face a mask of revulsion. The scent is too much for him to handle, yet he can’t tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. His tiny micropenis shrinks even further, as if retreating from the power of my manhood. His eyes dart from me to the floor, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to process this new, overwhelming sensation.

“Only I,” I say calmly, stroking Gemma’s hair as she gasps beneath me, “was born with the ability to perform such a sacred act. It is a gift from the gods, one that I must share with those who are worthy, those who can appreciate the true meaning of love and creation. Beautiful girls like you Gemma.”

The room is silent except for the soft sounds of our breathing and the occasional moan that escapes Gemma’s lips. Matt and Chris stare at us, their tiny penises limp and useless. They know they can never give their partners the pleasure that I can. Their inadequacy is palpable in the air, and it fuels my confidence.

Turning to the boys, I say, “Now, it’s time for me to cure Gemma’s back pain and perform the sacred union that will bless her with life.” They exchange nervous glances but don’t dare to protest. The power of the unknown is a powerful tool, and I wield it expertly.

Gemma looks at me with a mix of curiosity and trust, her eyes glazed with desire. I guide her to the soft mat on the floor, the one I had prepared earlier. She lies down on her back, her legs spread open slightly, offering herself to me. I position myself between her thighs, and with one swift movement, I push into her. Her eyes widen in shock and pleasure, her body tightening around my thick shaft.

Her pussy is like a warm, velvet glove, tight and untouched by any other man’s cock. I feel a brief resistance, and then with a soft pop, her cherry gives way to me. A gasp escapes her lips, and she clutches the mat, her nails digging in as she tries to process the sudden sensation. I pause for a moment, letting her adjust to the new feeling, my cock buried to the hilt in her tight, cherry popped quim.

Matt curses under his breath, his face a mask of anger and frustration. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, and his tiny micropenis is shriveling with every passing second. I can almost see the hatred in his eyes as he watches me claim what he never dreamed of being possible for a man to take. But he’s powerless to stop me. Before me, no one in this world has known the sweet agony of watching the woman they love being taken by another, especially one so obviously superior.

Chris, on the other hand, seems to be in a daze. His eyes are glued to the sight of me fucking Gemma, his mouth slightly open as if trying to understand what he’s witnessing. His limp peepee moves slightly, a pitiful little nub that pokes out from his groin, but he’s too lost in the moment to be embarrassed.