Mark gives himself completely to a game of domination and submission, exploring new frontiers of pleasure and power in an environment charged with desire and complicity.
Mark approached with a determination that surprised even himself. The men's large balls hung heavy, swaying with every movement, and he couldn't resist caressing them with his fingertips. His wives, Giovanna and Hilda, lay exhausted on the floor, their bodies marked by the imprints of the previous night. The men, still erect and sweaty, watched with a mixture of curiosity and lust as Mark knelt in front of them. With an almost reverential gesture, he brought his face to their erect members, feeling the heat emanating from them.
Her mouth opened, and her tongue darted out to lick the head of one of the penises, tasting the mixture of sweat and fluids covering it. The men moaned softly, their hands settling into Mark's hair as he worked diligently. Her lips wrapped around the member, sucking hard while her hands caressed the balls, massaging them gently. Mark couldn't help but feel aroused by the situation, by the power he had over these men, even if it was only for a moment.
With a perverted attitude, Mark moved toward the men's rear ends, his noses brushing against the thick, sweaty hairs. The smell was intense, but he didn't dislike it. On the contrary, it excited him. He pressed his tongue to the skin, licking slowly, feeling the men tense under his touch. The taste was strange, a mix of sweat, semen, and something else he couldn't identify, but it clung to his palate. He didn't care. He kept licking, cleaning their rear ends with a dedication that bordered on obsession.
Even Joel, the leader of the group, didn't escape Mark's attention. He knelt behind him, pressing his face to his hairy bottom, and began licking with the same intensity. Joel moaned, his hand squeezing Mark's shoulder as if seeking support. The wives, now pulled aside to rest, watched with a mixture of envy and excitement. They knew their turn would come again, but for now, Mark was the center of attention.
When the men positioned themselves over his face, Mark felt the weight of their bodies, but he didn't complain. On the contrary, he smiled, knowing this was what he wanted. With his tongue, he licked the four men's rear ends, moving from one to the other with a skill that surprised even the most experienced. His hands weren't idle; they stroked the long, hard members, masturbating them with a steady rhythm that made the men moan with pleasure.
Mark focused on the hairy asses, admiring the masculinity they represented. They were real men, proud macho men, and he felt honored to be able to serve them in this way. He swallowed the cum that flowed from their members, feeling it slide down his throat. The taste was salty, but he didn't care. It was the taste of dominance, of power, and he enjoyed it every last drop.
His face was crushed by the three hairy bottoms, but he didn't complain. On the contrary, he smiled, feeling his tongue working with desire, the men writhing in pleasure under his touch. He was addicted to this, to the feeling of being used, of being needed. And they knew it. They sought him out, desired him, and he gave himself completely.
When the last man finished, Mark looked up, his face covered in sweat and a satisfied smile. The men exchanged knowing glances, as if they knew this was just the beginning. Mark felt complete, filled with a satisfaction he couldn't explain. He had found his place, his purpose, and he had no intention of abandoning it.
The men stood, their bodies still trembling with pleasure, and looked at Mark with a mixture of respect and lust. He remained on the floor, his face still glistening with sweat and fluids, but he didn't move. He knew his role wasn't over, that there was more to come. And he was ready.
The handcuffs, now recovered, approached, their eyes shining with desire. Mark looked at them, and in that moment, he knew this was just the beginning. The game of dominance and submission had evolved, and he was at the center of it all. With a smile, he stood, ready for whatever came next, knowing his loneliness had found a new form of expression.
The scene closed with Mark looking up, his face covered in sweat and a satisfied smile, as the men exchanged knowing glances. The castle, with its ancient walls and hidden secrets, seemed to whisper that this was just the beginning. And Mark, amidst it all, knew he was ready for whatever came next.