The world dissolved into a maelstrom of pure, unadulterated sensation. Jax was the axis upon which this universe of pleasure spun, his body the altar, his senses the conduit for the ecstasy of the two goddesses who now claimed him as their own.
Above him, Sabrina was a vision of predatory desire.
Her thighs, strong and supple, framed his face, her dripping pussy a glistening, fragrant feast just inches from his mouth. He didn't hesitate.
With a growl of pure hunger, Jax's hands attached to her waist and pulled her down onto his waiting tongue.
"F~uck," Jax groaned as he tasted that sweet, potent pussy.
It was the flavor of a succubus in her prime, a creature whose very essence was woven from lust and pleasure.
He flattened his tongue and lapped at her folds, a long, slow, deliberate stroke that collected her slick arousal and made her cry out, her back arching in response. He was an artist, and her pussy was his canvas.
