Chapter 2

Her gaze settles on my cock, still thick and hard, and her shock turns even more intense. She’s never seen anything like it—anything so primal, so powerful. It’s a stark contrast to the tiny, soft things her brother and father have, she can compare now that she can see theirs for the first time too. This ... this is something else entirely.

Mr. Mace and Philip snap out of their daze, their faces flushing with embarrassment as they realize their family member has walked in on us. They fumble to cover their crotches with their hands, their tiny penises hidden away again from the world.

“Gwyn, sweetheart, please, leave,” Mr. Mace says, his voice gruff but filled with a desperation that wasn’t there before. His eyes implore her, and I can see the fear in them—fear of what this might mean for their family, for their perfect little world that’s now been irrevocably tainted by the knowledge of sex.

But Gwyn doesn’t move, her eyes still locked on my cock. I can see the beginnings of fascination in her gaze, the same curiosity that’s gripped her mother and will fascinate other females in this world. “Stay,” I say softly, my voice calm and soothing despite the chaos in the room. “There’s something I need to show you, something important.”

Mrs. Mace looks at me with a mix of fear and hope, the reality of our situation finally sinking in. She knows that we can’t just pretend this hasn’t happened, not when Gwyn has seen what we were doing. But she also knows that if I can convince her daughter to stay, to accept this new reality, then we might stand a chance of keeping our secret, of continuing our journey together.

So, I lean down and whisper in Mrs. Mace’s ear, my voice a gentle caress that’s filled with the same power that had her begging for more just moments before. “Gwyn needs healing too. Tell her it’s okay, tell her it’s all part of the healing process,” I murmur, my breath hot against her skin. She nods, her eyes wide with understanding.

“Gwyn, honey,” Mrs. Mace says, her voice soothing and calm. “This is part of a unique kind of healing. It’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s very special.”

Her words hang in the air, she’s spreading my lie but to Mrs Mace it’s the truth. Gwyn’s eyes dart between us, searching for a reason to believe, for an explanation that makes sense in this world where sexual intimacy is as foreign as the stars.

As I study Gwyn, I can’t help but see the echoes of Mrs. Mace in her delicate features—the same high cheekbones, the same full lips that had so eagerly kissed me earlier. Her body is a younger, slimmer version of her mother’s, the curves not yet fully developed but hinting at the beauty to come. She’s on the cusp of womanhood, and I know that with my guidance, she’ll bloom into a creature of unparalleled desire.

Gwyn’s eyes are wide with shock, but they’re also filled with a spark of curiosity that matches her mother’s. She’s at that age where she’s starting to feel the stirrings of her own sexuality, but without the knowledge to understand what it means. The sight of me, a man with a cock that defies the norms of this world, must be as confusing as it is intriguing. I can see the questions forming in her gaze, the need to know the secrets that her body is whispering to her.

Mrs. Mace’s hand tightens around mine, a silent plea for help. I give her a reassuring squeeze, my thumb stroking her knuckles gently. She’s the key to this puzzle, the one who can either push her daughter away or draw her closer into my web of deception. And it’s clear from the way Gwyn looks at her mother that she trusts her implicitly.

Gwyn’s eyes are wide and searching, her gaze flickering between her mother’s face and my cock, which still stands proudly erect. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together the puzzle before her. Her hair, a lighter shade of her mother’s honey blonde, falls in loose waves around her shoulders, framing her delicate face. Her features are softer, more innocent, but the same spark of life and passion burns in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I sit up straighter, the fabric of the couch sticking to my sweat-slicked skin. “Gwyn,” I say, my voice steady and calm, the tone of a wise sage imparting sacred knowledge. “I am a spiritual healer with a vast amount of knowledge. The things you’ve seen here tonight, they are part of a sacred ritual that I perform to cleanse the soul and heal the body.”

Mrs. Mace nods, her eyes never leaving her daughter’s face. “It’s true,” she murmurs, her voice filled with a passion that could only come from the depths of her soul. “What we’ve shared was the most incredible, the most profound experience of my life.”

Mr. Mace, still standing awkwardly with his hand over his crotch, looks at me warily. I can see the doubt in his eyes, the fear that his daughter will be drawn into the same web of lust that’s ensnared his wife. But his own curiosity is piqued, and he can’t deny the way his tiny penis tingles at the sight of his wife’s swollen, well-fucked pussy. It’s a reminder of his own inadequacy, a stark contrast to the power I hold in this room.

“Steve, this ... this isn’t for Gwyn,” he stammers, his voice a mix of anger and fear. “She’s too young, she doesn’t need this ... this kind of healing.”

I look him straight in the eye, my voice calm and commanding. “Mr. Mace, your concerns are understandable, but I assure you that this is for the greater good. The purity of youth is a powerful force, and if we can harness it, we can create a more harmonious future for all of us. Trust me, your daughter will benefit greatly from this.”

He hesitates, his hand still clutching at the fabric over his tiny micropenis. It’s clear he’s torn between the desire to protect his daughter and the undeniable allure of the unknown. “But how can you be sure?” Mr Mace asks, his voice laced with doubt at Steve, a boy no older than his own son.

I lean in closer, speaking in a hushed tone that only he can hear. “Mr. Mace, think of this as an opportunity for spiritual enlightenment, not just for your wife and daughter but for yourself and Philip. Imagine the growth you could experience by witnessing the purest form of healing, one that’s been lost to our world for so long.”

The doubt in his eyes flickers, and I see the beginnings of a spark, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he can gain the manhood he’s never known. “But what if it doesn’t work for me?” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the heavy silence.

“Ah, Mr. Mace,” I say, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Your dedication to your family is commendable. Your love for Mrs. Mace is palpable, and that love is a powerful force.” I let the words hang in the air, watching as his expression relaxes slightly. “But remember, I am a healer of the soul, not the body. The true transformation comes from within, and the power of love is what will guide your journey.”

Mrs. Mace nods in agreement, her eyes shining with the passionate love she feels for me. “You saw how I changed, how my body responded to him,” she says, her voice filled with reverence. “It’s a miracle, something we’ve never felt before.”

Mr. Mace looks at his wife, the love and hope in her eyes undeniable. He turns to me, his own hope beginning to flicker. “But what about me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you ... help me too?”

I nod solemnly, keeping the secret of his inherent impotence to myself. “Of course, Mr. Mace,” I say, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Love is the most potent force in the universe. If you open your heart and allow the healing energy to flow through you, I’m sure you’ll find the strength you seek.”

Inwardly, I smirk. I know the truth, but his desperation is my leverage. If he believes that there’s a chance for him, he’ll be more willing to allow me to ‘heal’ his daughter. The thought of her untouched, innocent body is almost too much to bear, but I keep my cool, my gaze never wavering from his.

Gwyn is still watching us, her expression a mix of shock and fascination. She’s at that age where she’s starting to feel the beginnings of her own sexuality, and she’s hungry for answers. Her eyes keep straying to my cock, and I can see the question in them: why isn’t it like the others? Why is it so ... substantial?

“Gwyn,” I say softly, beckoning her with a crooked finger. “Come here, I need to show you something important.”

Her eyes dart between her mother’s nod of encouragement and the monstrous erection that still juts out from my hips. She takes a tentative step forward, her curiosity warring with the fear that’s painted on her features. Each step is measured, her toes curling and uncurling against the cold floor, as if the very act of moving towards me is a declaration of intent.

“Come here, Gwyn,” I repeat, my voice a gentle coo that belies the power I wield. She’s the next piece of my puzzle, a fresh canvas for me to imprint my sexual knowledge upon. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Her eyes are glued to my still-erect cock, a silent question hanging in the air. “Steve ... What ... what is that?” she asks, her voice shaking slightly. I can see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty, but also the spark of curiosity. She’s never seen anything like it, and it’s a mystery she can’t help but want to solve.

“It’s a part of me,” I say gently, “a part that has the power to heal and bring great joy. It’s a gift, one that I share with those who are ready to receive it.”

Gwyn’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and she’s visibly trembling as she approaches me. She’s torn between her fear and her curiosity, and I can see the war raging within her. She stops a few feet away, her gaze locked on my cock. It’s still hard, still pulsing with the aftermath of the intense pleasure I’ve shared with her mother.

“May I?” I ask, my voice a gentle purr that belies the power I know I have over her. I extend my hand, palm up, in a gesture that seems innocent enough. But deep down we all know what’s really happening here—I’m asking for permission to touch her, to claim her, to make her mine in the same way I’ve done with her mother.

Mrs. Mace nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. She knows what I’m capable of, what I can do to a woman’s body and soul. And she’s willing to give me that power over her daughter. Gwyn looks at her mother, then back at me, and finally nods. Her hand is cold and trembling as it meets mine, but I hold it firmly, my thumb brushing against her skin in a way that feels almost paternal—but we both know it’s anything but.

I stand, my cock swaying slightly as I rise from the couch. Gwyn’s eyes follow it, her curiosity growing stronger with every moment. I lead her to the center of the room, my heart pounding in anticipation. She’s so young, so pure—the thought of being the first to introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh is exhilarating.

As I place my hands on her shoulders, I can feel the tension in her body, the way her muscles quiver beneath my touch. She’s like a deer in headlights, frozen in place but ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. But she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t resist as I guide her closer. Her breathing is shallow and quick, her chest rising and falling with each gasp.

My fingers trace the curve of her neck, feeling the pulse of her heart beating rapidly beneath my fingertips. I can feel the heat of her skin, the warmth of her youthful vitality. Her body is a testament to the beauty of innocence, and I revel in the power I hold to corrupt that purity.

As my hand moves down to the small of her back, her breath hitches, and she leans into my touch. Her body is a canvas yearning for the brushstroke of experience, and I’m the artist eager to paint it with the colors of passion. Gently, I guide her closer, the tip of my cock brushing against her stomach, leaving a trail of precum that marks her as mine.

Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she looks up at me with a mix of awe and terror, her pupils dilating as she processes the sensation of my erection against her. Her skin is softer than I could have ever imagined, like the petals of a freshly bloomed flower, untouched by the harsh realities of this world.

As I guide her closer, my cock nestles against her, and I feel the warmth of her body, the heat of her curiosity. Her breath is sweet, a gentle breeze that fans the flames of my desire. I can see the goosebumps rise on her arms, the way her nipples harden against the fabric of her shirt. She’s feeling things she’s never felt before, experiencing sensations that have been denied to her for her entire life.

My hand slides down to her waist, my fingers skimming the soft curve of her hip. Her skin is smooth and unblemished, my hand felt like it was moving over silk. The fabric of her skirt whispers against my skin as I lift it, revealing the slenderness of her thighs. Her legs are like sculptures, untouched by the hands of a lover, unmarred by the caresses of a man. I run my fingers along the inside of her thigh, the softness of her skin making me ache with need.

As my hand moves upward, I feel the heat of her pussy through the thin barrier of her panties. Her breath hitches, and she bites her bottom lip, a silent invitation. I can feel her heart racing, the blood pumping through her veins, the same blood that will soon be crying out for the touch of my cock. The fabric of her underwear is damp, the scent of her arousal a heady perfume that fills the room. I know she’s never felt this before, never known the power that lies dormant between her legs.

But as I lean in, Philip snaps and comes rushing towards me, his face a mask of rage. “What are you doing to her?” he roars, his tiny micropenis bobbing impotently with each step. His fists are clenched, his body tense and ready to fight. “I thought you were my friend! What kind of friend does those disgusting things to his buddy’s mom and sister!?”

“Philip, no!” Mrs. Mace cries out, her hand shooting out to stop him. But he’s beyond reason, driven by a primal instinct to protect his sister from the unknown.

The scent of Gwyn’s arousal hits him like a physical blow, and he stumbles back, his eyes watering. It’s a smell that’s never existed in this world, a scent so potent and alien that it sends his senses into overload. His stomach lurches, and he retches, the reality of what’s happening before him finally sinking in.

“Get away from her, you monster!” he chokes out, his voice thick with bile. But his body won’t cooperate. The scent is like a poisonous gas, he screams as pain and revulsion racks his body.

I pull back, my hand dropping from Gwyn’s waist, feigning a look of hurt and confusion. “What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide and innocent. “I was just ... explaining the healing process to her.”

Gwyn’s face is a picture of shock and embarrassment, but she nods, backing up my lie. “It’s true,” she stammers, “Mom said it would be okay.”

Mr. Mace steps forward, his hand on Philip’s shoulder, his eyes never leaving mine. “Calm down, son,” he says firmly, his voice a stark contrast to the tremble in his body. “Let Steve do his work. If it’s what it takes to save this family...”

Philip’s eyes dart to Gwyn, then back to me, his disgust evident. “You’re going to change her you snake, like you changed Mom,” he spits out, the words loaded with accusation and fear. “What gives you the right?”

“The right to bring joy and enlightenment?” I reply calmly, my hand still resting gently on Gwyn’s shoulder. “Your mother is happier than she’s ever been. She’s found a part of herself she never knew existed. Isn’t that what we all strive for?”

Mr. Mace nods solemnly, his grip on Philip’s shoulder tightening. “Son,” he says, his voice steady and firm, “perhaps this is the answer we’ve been seeking. Maybe this ... this gift that Steve has, it’s something we could learn from him.”

Philip’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he looks at me, but there’s a flicker of hope in his gaze. He’s seen the change in his mother, the way she moves with a newfound confidence, the light that’s been kindled in her eyes. And deep down, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to feel that kind of power, to be the one to make a woman tremble with pleasure.

Mr. Mace steps closer to his son, his voice low and earnest. “Think about it, Philip,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “This man has something we don’t. Something that can bring life to this cold, sterile world. And if he can give that to us, to our family ... wouldn’t it be worth it?”

Philip’s eyes dart between his father and me, his mind racing with questions and fears. But he sees the hope in his father’s gaze, the desperation in his mother’s eyes. And then he looks at Gwyn, standing there, trembling but not fighting, not running away from the touch of the strange, powerful boy with the monstrous cock. He knows she’s feeling something she’s never felt before, something that’s calling to her, whispering promises of pleasure and power.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, he nods. “Fine,” he says, his voice thick with reluctance. “But if you hurt her, if you do anything ... wrong...”

I give him a knowing smile. “Of course, Philip. The healing process is sacred. It’s all about love and trust. You know that.”

With his reluctant acceptance, the tension in the room eases slightly. Mrs. Mace takes this moment to interject, her voice soothing as she addresses her son. “Why don’t you go get us some refreshments, dear? Give Gwyn and me a moment with our new ... spiritual guide.”

The anger in Philip’s eyes turns to confusion, but he nods stiffly and retreats to the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoes through the house, punctuating the silence that follows. Gwyn’s eyes are still wide, but she’s no longer trembling, instead watching me with a mix of awe and trepidation.

With the room clear, I again place my hand back under her skirt, feeling the warmth of her pussy through the damp fabric of her panties once more. The softness of her mound, the heat of her desire, it’s exquisite. This world is so innocent, so untouched by the carnality of sex, and yet here I am, about to introduce her to the most primal of human experiences.

Gwyn’s breath hitches as my fingers trace the edge of her underwear, her eyes never leaving mine. She’s so trusting, so eager to understand what this “healing” truly is. I can feel the anticipation building in her, the way her body leans into my touch despite her fear.

With a deft movement, I slip my fingers under the fabric, my heart racing as I make contact with her velvety folds. She gasps, a sound that’s music to my ears, and her legs quiver slightly. Her pussy is wet and warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. It’s a secret garden, untouched and waiting to be explored.

Gwyn’s eyes widen as I stroke her gently, her breath coming in short bursts. She’s never felt anything like this before, and the sensations are overwhelming. I lean down, my eyes locked on hers, and press my lips to hers in a soft, tender kiss. It’s her first kiss, and the innocence of it is intoxicating. Her mouth is sweet and unblemished, just like her soul.

As our lips move together, I feel her body melt against mine, the tension draining from her. She’s no longer just a curious observer but a willing participant in this sacred dance of the flesh. I deepen the kiss, my tongue probing her mouth as my fingers explore her pussy. She tastes like heaven, like the purest essence of life itself.

Her breathing becomes more erratic as I slip a finger 1/2 an inch into her, feeling her tightness clench around me. She’s a virgin, untouched by the hands of a man, and the thought sends a thrill through me. Her eyes widen, and she gasps into my mouth, her hips bucking slightly against my hand. It’s a sensation she’s never experienced, and I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building within her.

I break the kiss to gaze down at her, my cock aching to claim her fully. Slowly, I pull her shirt over her head, revealing the perfection of her breasts. They’re small, but perfectly rounded, with pink nipples that stand erect from the cold air and the heat of her arousal. Her eyes are glazed over with lust, and she whispers my name, a sound that sends shivers down my spine.

With trembling hands, she helps me pull down her skirt and panties, the fabric sliding over her smooth, unblemished skin like a whispered promise. She’s never been naked in front of anyone, never felt the rush of vulnerability and power that comes with exposing oneself fully. As the fabric pools around her ankles, she stands before me, her legs slightly apart, her pussy glistening with her excitement.

Mrs. Mace watches us with hungry eyes, her own desires reflected in the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. She moves to the couch, sitting down with an air of expectancy, and I follow, pulling Gwyn onto my lap. Her legs straddle me, her knees digging into the cushions on either side. The heat of her cunt is like a brand against my cock, and I fight the urge to plunge into her immediately.

Instead, I whisper to Mrs. Mace, “You’ve felt this power before. Now, I need you to help me share it with Gwyn.” She nods, her eyes never leaving my face, and reaches over to grasp my erection, her hand trembling slightly with excitement. I guide her hand to Gwyn’s pussy, the wetness of her daughter’s arousal making my cock throb with need.

Mrs. Mace gasps as she feels the slickness, her eyes widening with understanding. She looks at me for a moment, the question in her gaze, and I give her a gentle nod of encouragement. She wraps her hand around my shaft and begins to rub the head of my cock against her daughter’s delicate folds, spreading the wetness and teasing the entrance to her virginity. Gwyn’s eyes roll back in her head, her mouth forming a silent “Oh” as she experiences a new level of pleasure.

“Now, Gwyn,” I murmur, my voice low and hypnotic, “You need to lower yourself down. This is the next part of the healing process. It may be a little painful at first, but it’s necessary.”

Her eyes are wide with a mix of fear and excitement as she nods, her body poised over mine. I hold her hips firmly, guiding her into position. She’s never felt a man’s cock before, never known the stretch and the burn that comes with losing one’s virginity. Her skin is like porcelain, unblemished by the rough touch of the world, and I know that once I take her, she’ll never be the same.

“Relax,” I murmur into her ear, the scent of her arousal intoxicating. “Let your body take over.”

Gwyn nods, her breathing shallow as she lowers herself onto me, her pussy parting around the head of my cock. Mrs. Mace watches with rapt attention, her own hand slipping between her thighs to play with her clit as she sees her daughter’s innocence slipping away.

The moment my cock breaches Gwyn’s hymen, she cries out, the pain mixing with the intense pleasure that floods her body. She’s so tight, so untouched, and the feeling of her walls clamping down on me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Her eyes widen with shock, and for a brief moment, she looks as if she might pull away.

But Mrs. Mace is there, her hand guiding Gwyn’s movements, whispering words of encouragement and reassurance in her ear. She’s lost in her own world of pleasure, her eyes glazed over as she watches her daughter’s transformation from innocent girl to woman. And then, as if on cue, the door to the room opens, and Philip walks in, a tray of drinks shaking in his hands.

His eyes widen in shock, the color draining from his face as he sees his sister’s naked body straddling me, my cock disappearing into her tight, untouched pussy. The sight of her blood, a crimson ribbon that runs from my shaft to my balls, is like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the reality he’s been avoiding. For a moment, he just stands there, the world around him seeming to slow down as he tries to process what he’s witnessing.

The tray of drinks wobbles precariously in Philip’s grasp, the condensation sliding down the glasses like tears. He takes a step back, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. Mrs. Mace notices his distress and quickly moves to intercept him, her voice a gentle coo that belies the ravenous hunger in her eyes.

“Philip, darling,” she says, her hand reaching out to steady his trembling arm. “You remember what we discussed. This is part of the healing process. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The tray of drinks wobbles again, but he doesn’t drop it. His eyes are glued to the scene before him, the sight of his sister’s innocence being taken by one of his friends who somehow has a massive cock. It’s like watching a sacred ceremony that he’s not quite sure he’s ready to understand.

Mr. Mace clears his throat, his eyes flicking between his daughter’s face, contorted with a mix of pain and pleasure, and his son’s horror. “Philip,” he says, his voice strained, “just ... set the tray down.”

Philip’s hand shakes as he lowers the tray to the coffee table, the glasses clinking together, the ice cubes in the drinks chiming like a mournful bell. His knuckles are white from the death grip he has on the tray, and his eyes are filled with a turmoil of emotions: shock, anger, confusion, and a strange, unsettling arousal that he can’t quite comprehend.

Mr. Mace’s face is a mask of stoicism, but I can see the flickers of jealousy and yearning beneath the surface. He’s watching as his daughter’s purity is claimed by a cock that’s unlike anything he’s ever seen, and the power I wield over her is something he desperately craves for himself. The way she moans, the way her body responds to me, it’s a heady aphrodisiac that fills the room, and he can’t help but want a taste of that power.

I begin to move my hips up and down, the slow, deliberate motions causing Gwyn to gasp and whimper as my cock stretches her further. She’s tight, so unbearably tight, and the sensation is exquisite. Mrs. Mace’s eyes are glued to our joined bodies, her own hand moving faster between her thighs, the wetness of her pussy audible as she brings herself closer to climax.

Gwyn’s hips start to move with me, her body instinctively seeking the rhythm that will bring her the most pleasure. She’s a natural, her movements becoming more confident as she discovers the beauty of sex. The sight of her, a picture of innocence lost to carnality, is more than I can bear, and I thrust into her with more urgency, claiming her fully.

As she rides me, her eyes flutter shut and her head falls back, her long hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of gold. I lean forward and take one of her nipples into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and teeth. She cries out, the sensation sending shockwaves through her body. Her breasts are small and firm, her nipples pebbling with excitement as I suck and nibble on them, eliciting gasps and whimpers that are music to my ears.

Mr. Mace’s gaze is transfixed on the sight of his daughter’s nakedness, the way her body moves in such an intimate, erotic dance. His cheeks are flushed, and I can see his tiny penis beginning to slightly harden but was still far from an erection that he will never achieve. It’s clear he’s never felt this way before, never wanted someone so badly and been denied the ability to act on it. The power of the situation is not lost on me.

“You see, Philip,” Mr. Mace says, his voice strained but firm, “this is what true power looks like.” He gestures to my erect member, the one thing that separates me from the impotent males of this world. “Look at the size, that’s what we need to achieve. With enough time, Steve can teach us to grow to that size.”

Philip’s eyes widen with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and a hint of fascination. He’s still reeling from the scene before him, but he’s a young man with desires of his own, and the thought of possessing such power is too tempting to dismiss outright. Mrs. Mace nods in agreement, her own hand still buried between her legs.

“It’s okay, Philip,” she purrs, her voice thick with lust. “Your sister is just receiving a special kind of healing. One that will bring joy to our entire family.”

Philip’s eyes dart from his sister’s bouncing breasts to the monstrous cock invading her, and back to the hungry gaze of his mother. The room is charged with an electric tension that no one can ignore. Mrs. Mace’s hand is a blur between her legs, her breathing shallow and rapid. She’s lost in the display of power and pleasure, her mind racing with the possibilities of what this means for her own life.

Gwyn’s movements become more erratic as she approaches her climax. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she bites her bottom lip to stifle her cries. The sensation of being filled so completely is overwhelming, and she’s never felt anything like it before. Her pussy clamps down on my cock as she reaches the peak, her body convulsing with the intensity of her orgasm. It’s a sight that would make any man’s knees weak, and it’s clear that even in this sexless world, the power of an erect penis is not lost on her.

Her scream pierces the air, a primal cry of ecstasy that echoes through the room. Mrs. Mace’s eyes widen in surprise, her own hand stilled between her thighs as she watches her daughter’s face contort with pleasure. She’s never seen anything so raw, so unbridled in her entire life, and the sight of it has her own arousal spiking.