In the shadows of the city, Raven and her women find themselves caught up in an unexpected encounter that challenges the boundaries of desire and control. An old man becomes the center of a scene of passion and reflection.
In a secluded corner of the city, where the shadows lengthened and the murmur of the night began to envelop everything, Raven walked with a magnetic presence. His tall, slender figure, wrapped in a dark coat, radiated an aura of mystery and control. At his side, like extensions of his will, walked his two adopted wives: Lyra, a white elf of ethereal beauty, with silver hair that gleamed in the dim lamplight, and Amara, a shy, chocolate-skinned woman whose large, expressive eyes reflected a mixture of curiosity and submission. Both followed him with unwavering loyalty, their steps synchronized with their master's.
Raven smiled with an enigmatic expression, as if holding a secret only he could understand. His gaze scanned the surroundings until it stopped when he saw an old man urinating against the wall of an alley. The man, oblivious to the presence of the three, seemed lost in his own world. However, Raven, fascinated by the size of his member, which was visible through the dim light, approached with an interest he made no attempt to hide.
"Lyra, Amara," he murmured softly but firmly, "come closer."
The two women obeyed without question, their movements fluid and silent. Lyra, with her preternatural grace, and Amara, with her captivating shyness, stood at either side of the old man. Sensing their presence, he turned in a mixture of surprise and confusion. But before he could say anything, Raven spoke.
—Don't be afraid, old friend. They just want to help you.
Lyra and Amara, with a submission that seemed natural to them, knelt in front of the old man. Their mouths, soft and warm, approached his member, still dripping with urine. The old man, initially surprised, let out a stifled moan when the women's lips enveloped his penis, absorbing the remaining liquid with a delicacy that contrasted with the crudeness of the act.
The old man, aroused by the situation, felt his member rapidly harden. His hands, trembling but firm, rested on the women's shoulders, guiding them with an instinct that age had not dulled. Lyra and Amara, with joyful and devoted energy, rose and sat on him, their naked bodies pressing against his. Lyra's breasts, small and firm, and Amara's, generous and soft, were enthusiastically groped by the old man, whose fingers avidly explored their forms.
"Do you feel the warmth of our bodies?" Lyra asked aloud, her melodious voice filling the air.
"Do you like the way we surround you?" Amara added, her tone softer but still laden with desire.
The old man, without responding with words, drew them closer to him. His hands ran over their backs and hips as they stripped down to their underwear, letting the night envelop their bodies with its coolness. Kneeling before him, they looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and devotion. Raven, standing to one side, watched the scene with a satisfied smile, as if it were all part of a plan that only he understood.
Without hesitation, the old man stood, his erect member pointing toward them. In one fluid motion, he positioned himself between the two women, penetrating Lyra first. Her ethereal body trembled at the feel of him inside her, while Amara, kneeling behind, waited for her turn. The old man moved with a passion that belied his age, his thrusts firm and deep. Lyra moaned softly, her face reflecting the ecstasy coursing through her body, while Amara, with her eyes closed, enjoyed the wait, knowing that soon it would be her turn.
"Do you like it, master?" Lyra asked, her voice choked with pleasure.
"Do you like how we train him?" Amara added, her tone firmer now that the old man was penetrating her as well.
Raven, aroused by the scene, brought a hand to his crotch and began to masturbate fervently. His gaze never left the women, his face reflecting a mixture of pride and desire.
"Yes, my beautiful maids," he replied in a husky voice. "I love how you enjoy your training."
The old man, ever closer to climax, moved his hips urgently, his moans filling the air along with those of the women. Lyra and Amara, their bodies joined by pleasure and desire, embraced, feeling a deep connection that went beyond the physical. Their whispers of pleasure mingled with each other, creating a symphony of ecstasy that echoed in the alley.
"I love the way your cum tastes," Lyra confessed, her voice thick with sincerity.
"It's our reward for being good maids," Amara added, her face shining with a mixture of sweat and satisfaction.
Raven, hearing his words, smiled with an expression that combined satisfaction and reflection. His hand moved faster, his breathing quickening in time with the scene before him. The old man finally reached his climax, filling the women's bodies with his hot seed. Lyra and Amara, with a shared moan, held each other tighter, feeling the liquid draw them closer together.
At that moment, Raven, with an introspective look, wondered about the nature of power, desire, and surrender. Who was truly the master of whom in that game of passion and submission? Was he the one controlling them, or were they the ones guiding him through their own will? The whisper of the wind seemed to whisper an answer that never came, leaving the question hanging in the air, like an echo of pleasure and doubt.
The scene slowly faded, the alley returning to its usual silence. Lyra and Amara, still embracing, looked at Raven with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. He, with an enigmatic smile, stroked their hair, as if he knew something they didn't yet understand. The night continued, but in the minds of all three, the intensity of that moment lingered, like a memory that united them in a bond of passion and reflection.