The room fell silent except for their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cum, and raw desire.
The pale sheets were damp, twisted beneath them, marked by the evidence of their release.
Maris slumped against Lor's side, her soft curves trembling as she tried to catch her breath, her hazel eyes glassy.
Vela's toned frame glistened with sweat, her green hair plastered to her forehead, her chest still heaving from the intensity of her orgasm.
Lor lay flat, his chest rising and falling, his cock softening but already twitching back to life, stirred by the sight of the two women—still flushed, still hungry.
It should have ended there, a moment to catch their breath, to let the heat dissipate.
But Lor's hands didn't stay idle.
His hazel eyes burned with hunger as he reached out, one hand trailing up Vela's inner thigh, fingers brushing the slick, sensitive skin, the other slipping between Maris's legs, finding her soaked folds with unerring precision.
