Despite having Lucille still passionately sucking his dick, gagging and spitting on it every now and then, with Ayota and the other dryads behind and all around him, being handsy, rubbing their tits on him and trying to finger themselves using his hands, Byron focused his eyes on the prize ahead.
Lalisha.
He had already unleashed his Sensation Smoke, the tendrils and the tentacles rushing towards her like those of an octopus attacking its prey.
Lucille gagged, spat on his dick and started stroking up and down its shaft with her hands.
Pleasure coursed through Byron's nerves like electricity. But this was no match for what he felt when the first tendrils and tentacles reached the dryads.
Their reaction made it even better.
As soon as the tendrils and the tentacles made contact with their nipples and their necks, with their waists and their thighs and with their pussies and their booties, the dryads screamed in unison.
Even Mozart would never have created such a symphony.
