Much like before, I hardly noticed the passage of time. Only one thing dominated my entire focus.
It was, of course, the gorgeous beauties of my harem.
Their moans and pants were my music, and their bodies were my canvas. Like an artist, I drew vivid pictures using my "brush." And like a musician, I played my "instruments" to songs of depravity and lust. My hands, much like a sculptor's, caressed and appreciated all they had to offer.
It felt amazing. To have an army of lovers to cater to my every fetish, my every desire. No matter how lecherous, they still complied. The tyrannical dominance I could exert stroked my primal urges.
I didn't know how much time had passed, but I hardly cared. Seeing my lovers bounce, rock, and pound their hips into mine turned fueled my lust but also turned my brain to mush. I lost all reason and just ravished my harem like a beast. My excitement made me a bit rough, but they loved it.
