"Daddy, we never need a bed. The dryads go back into their trees and I into my river. Don't worry though. We shall sleep with you tonight."
At Lucille's words, Byron's lips curled into a satisfied smile. What else could a man wish for?
He thanked her with a kiss on the lips.
Still controlling the tendrils and the tentacles for those dryads who were yet to have their orgasms, Byron strolled tens of meters from her. He wanted to take a piss so badly.
"Oh, fuck!" he grunted, the sensation as the hot liquid sought passage through his urethra painfully satisfying due to the soreness from all the work it had just done.
Upon finishing, he shook it like most men, flicked its head to make sure not even a drop remained inside, then took a few more steps toward the small river that ran through the middle of the island and washed his face with its waters. He drank some using his hands before returning where he had left the girls.
