The Whispering Gallery stretched along the manor’s eastern wing — a long, arched corridor lined with enchanted mirrors and portraits that captured and replayed whispered secrets from the solstice celebrations. Tonight’s event, the Gallery of Echoed Desires, invited guests to walk its length while sharing private confessions that the walls would echo back in soft, distorted voices, meant to release burdens before the final rites.
Elara moved slowly through the gallery beside Lyra, her deep violet gown brushing the marble floor. Beneath the silk, her p***y was a slick, aching disaster. Kaelen’s repeated thick loads from the Crystal Veil and earlier trysts had left her constantly full, puffy, and leaking. Every step caused the creamy c*m to squelch obscenely inside her, coating her swollen f
