“Well maybe you wouldn’t be opposed to me fucking you with this then,” Auzia said as she reached into her bag and pulled out a strap-on dildo. Time seemed to stretch, each moment intensifying his connection with both Latisha and Cheyenne. “You gonna belong to me now, Larry,” she growled, her fingers digging into his flesh. Cheyenne bounced off the couch, her hair whipping behind her, a mischievous gleam flashing in her eyes. Each thrust from Latisha was punctuated by profane words—a stark contrast to Ashley’s soft whispers. She wore a confident smirk, and her eyes twinkled with mischief. Larry sat at the kitchen table, the blue glow from the vintage ceiling light casting shadows over his hunched figure. In the bedroom, Auzia wasted no time. She had used one before on a girlfriend she had lived with as a freshman in the dorms, but never a man. With every stroke, he felt lighter, the grief that had clung like a second skin dissolving under the heat of their shared passion. He gave a short nod, gesturing
