CHAPTER 153: THE MIDNIGHT BLOOM - END

"Yes, yes, yes—fuck—" she gasped, her legs wrapping around him, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper, her pussy clenching around his shaft with every brutal thrust, juices squirting out around the base, soaking his balls.

She clawed his shoulders, gasping, her dark hair sticking to her face as she took every inch, her full breasts bouncing wildly, nipples hard and pink, begging for touch.

And then—soft fingers joined them.

Lia’s mother and Toren’s wife crawled in like hungry wolves, their naked bodies glistening with cum and sweat, their masks glinting in the mana-light.

Lia’s mother kissed down Lor’s spine, her red curls trailing, her nails scraping over his lean back as he fucked, sending shivers through him.

Toren’s wife moved lower, her lips finding the brunette’s inner thighs, moaning as she tasted the slick pouring out of her dripping pussy, her tongue lapping at the glistening skin.

Their tongues danced across her legs, over her belly, then up to her full breasts, taking turns sucking her nipples, biting gently, licking, teasing as Lor fucked her harder, his cock pistoning in and out, wet and loud, her pussy gripping him like a vise.

The brunette was screaming, trembling between them, begging for more, her pussy pulsing with every thrust, her breasts heaving as their mouths worshipped her.

Lor flipped her suddenly—facedown, ass up, juices dripping from her pussy onto the furs, glistening in the candlelight.

She gasped as he spread her cheeks, her tight asshole twitching, and he spat once, rubbing the head of his cock against the pucker, slick with her juices and his cum.

"Yes—please—do it—" she moaned, her voice raw with need.

He pushed, her tight ring resisting, then yielding, clenching hard around him as he forced his way into her ass, inch by thick inch, until he was balls-deep, buried in her hot, perfect heat.

Lor grunted, grabbing her hips with bruising force, driving into her with relentless thrusts, each one punching her forward, her full breasts bouncing wildly, her ass shaking with every slam.

She was delirious, drool smearing her wine-red lips, her fingers clawing the furs, her moans shaking the alcove.

Lia’s mother sucked her clit from below, fingers teasing her dripping pussy while Lor wrecked her ass, her tongue slurping, messy, drinking her slick like nectar.

Toren’s wife kissed her open mouth, moaning into it, their lips sloppy, wet, tongues tangled as all three women melted into a heaving, shaking mess of flesh, cum, and sweat, their moans blending into a sinful symphony.

Lor thrust harder, faster, his balls slapping against her slick skin, his cock squeezing through her tightest grip yet, the pressure building sharp, overwhelming, perfect in his core.

"Cum in me—again—do it—make a fucking mess—" she gasped, her voice breaking, her pussy and ass pulsing with need.

He did, shoving in hard and holding, his cock throbbing violently as he came deep in her ass, flooding her with hot, thick spurts, overflowing, dripping down between her thighs, mixing with her slick and the other women’s spit.

She collapsed, twitching, moaning wordlessly, her body trembling from the force of it, her pussy gushing as her own climax shuddered through her, her full breasts heaving against the furs.

Lor lay back, breath hot against his chest, three gorgeous women sprawled beside him—cum-dripping, sweat-slicked, purring, twitching, their lips brushing softly as they whispered filthier promises than the acts they’d just shared.

The velvet shadows of the Gallery pulsed with heat and enchantment, the air thick with moans, wet gasps, and the rhythmic slap of bodies being worshipped like temples.

Lia’s mother’s red curls splayed across the bench, her freckled breasts heaving, her pussy and ass leaking his cum in glistening trails.

Toren’s wife curled beside her, full breasts rising with each pant, her thighs slick with spit and her own juices.

The brunette, her cat-shaped mask glinting, lay trembling, her pussy still dripping, her nipples hard against the criss-crossing straps of her bra.

It was paradise.

Until he heard the voice.

"...the fuck—? My head—what in the hells—where the fuck is my robe—?"

Lor’s eyes snapped open, his hazel gaze sharp behind the black-and-gold mask.

Just outside the curtained alcove, shuffling steps and muttering—familiar, nasally, annoyed.

Toren.

Alive. Conscious.

And definitely not happy about waking up naked in a hedge, his invitation stolen, cum crusting the back of his knees from some unseen indulgence.

Lor didn’t panic, his heart steady despite the thrill. He moved, quick but smooth, sitting up carefully, gently disentangling himself from the blissful pile of satisfied women.

The brunette mumbled, her hand brushing his thigh, her pussy still glistening with his cum.

Lia’s mother licked his shoulder lazily, her green eyes half-lidded, her freckled chest heaving.

Toren’s wife curled against his side, panting softly, a trail of cum leaking between her plush ass cheeks, her lips glossy with spit.

"Where are you going?" the redhead murmured, her voice low, dazed, her fingers trailing over his slick thigh.

"Mmh. Round four?" the brunette offered, licking her wine-red lips, her breasts swaying as she shifted.

"You can’t just leave," Toren’s wife purred, tugging at his wrist, her full breasts pressing against him. "You’re the best fuck I’ve had in decades—"

Lor smiled behind the mask, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

He leaned in between them, his voice low and soft. "I will be back with a blessing from a Light."

The woman looked disheartened and confused.

Then he stood, his cock still half-hard, robe hanging loose, cum glistening on his thighs and lean chest, the silk brushing his sensitive skin as he slipped through the curtain.

Toren passed just on the other side, groaning and rubbing his scalp, muttering about security, his bald head catching the mana-light.

Lor didn’t linger, moving fast but smooth, like a man with a purpose, his robe fluttering around his legs.

No one stopped him—everyone wore masks, everyone was lost in sucking, fucking, or moaning against someone’s thigh.

He passed a woman bent over a banister, her ass high, taking two fingers deep while her lips stretched around a stranger’s cock, her moans muffled.

Lor slapped her ass sharply as he passed, just because he could, the sound echoing, her pussy dripping as she gasped, "Oh—fuck—"

She moaned like he was a god.

Another woman knelt by a glowing fountain, her hips glistening with dripping cum, her skin flushed and slick.

Lor passed behind her, giving her breasts a playful squeeze—one palm on each heavy mound, her nipples hard against his fingers.

She gasped, looked up, and smiled blindly, her voice breathy. "Mm—thank you, sir..."

Lor winked behind the mask, his cock twitching faintly at her submission.

He reached the inner gate, the enchantment on his mask holding strong—no alarms, no one asking for names.

He wasn’t Lor—just another sin-drenched noble with a used-up cock and no regrets, his lean frame gliding through the crowd, his hazel eyes sharp with satisfaction.

At the final archway, he paused, turning back once, the Gallery’s haze of moans and flesh imprinted in his mind.

He could still feel them—the women, their bodies, their scent clinging to his skin like worship, their pussies dripping with his cum, their moans echoing in his ears.

He smiled, lips curling behind the mask.

Then he stepped into the deserted courtyard, the cool night air washing over his slick body, the velvet robe fluttering around his legs, brushing his half-hard cock.

The lanterns glowed softly, the scent of flowers and perfume fading as he moved beyond the gate.

No one chased him.

No one even looked twice.

With one deep breath, he leapt, mana surging through his core, wind wrapping under his feet like a lover’s touch, lifting him gently into the sky.

His robe billowed around him, the black-and-gold mask gleaming in the moonlight, his cock swaying faintly beneath the silk as he rose into the cool velvet air, his lean chest catching the breeze.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t need to.

The Midnight Bloom faded behind him, a distant glow of sin, perfume, and satisfaction.

Lor flew higher, robe flapping, mask still on, smiling like the bastard he was.

Now this is a night to remember.