guests fondled each other. From the corner of her eye hands groped, cupping breasts. Mouths fused in kisses. Pain shot through her womb, and she breathed in through clenched teeth. Hunching, she pressed her hand to her stomach as her pulse vibrated through her. Each thrust, each groan, tightened her like an overwound violin, stretching her need to the point of pain, to the point of breaking.
Her legs trembled as her breath puffed in and out with the rhythm of the mating onstage. Blast. Where was Kenny? She needed him. Why hadn’t he come for her?
“Oh, Ass of Milk-White and Royal Purple, if I weren’t looking at you with such pleasure, my cock wouldn’t hold up worth a measure,” the man on stage called out.
The woman bit her lip and whimpered. Her body convulsed as the man groaned and thrust up hard once more, his hips pulsing as he spilled his seed.
In her mind, gush after gush of Kenny’s hot fluid coated the walls of her sex. Hannah’s sex contracted and crippling pain shot through her womb. Blast, she needed to leave.
This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. She reached out for Timothy’s arm and glanced around the room.
“Artemis!” He grasped her.
Where was Kenny? Where was he? Only he could ease her desire, ease this pain. Pain sliced though her body. Good Lord. She doubled over, her fingers digging into the flesh of her rounded stomach. Timothy lifted her into his arms and darkness met her.
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