The man left, locking the door from outside.
The oblivious Harry groaned, surprised by his own reaction. The sensation was intoxicating, and his mind began to blur.
Another lady stepped forward, her lips brushing against Harry's in a gentle kiss. The tender touch awoken, yet another sensation.
But before he could fully absorb the sensation, another woman began tracing his contours, her fingers dancing across his skin. More ladies joined in. The multiple stimulation was both satisfying and chaotic.
Each lady's touch evoked a distinct feeling, and Harry's senses reeled from the overload. He longed for a slower pace, a chance to savor each moment individually.
Instead, the ladies descended upon him like a herd of zombies, their advances relentless. It was as if they were driven by an insatiable hunger, their movements orchestrated to push Harry to the brink of endurance.
