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... self into his muscles, into his spine, into the very rhythm of his breath. He sat slouched on the root throne, cock soft but twitching with memory, his skin glazed with sweat and cum and kisses. Around him, his wives lay tangled together in the aftermath of worship: some dozing, some lazily stroking one another, all of them glowing. Literally glowing now, as if the island had marked them with stardust and sap.
The root beneath his back pulsed gently, like a second heartbeat echoing his o ...
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