Kafka stood slowly, his muscles flexing as he gripped the brimming bucket, lifting it with both hands, the creamy mix sloshing faintly against the wooden sides. His eyes gleamed hunger as he admired it, milk droplets clinging to his fingers from where he'd dipped them moments before.
"After all that effort, it's finally full—stuffed to the damn brim with this gorgeous mix from my mother and my two lovers." He tilted his head back slightly, his throat tensing in anticipation as he prepared to indulge.
Abigaille, Camila, and Nina crawled toward him on all fours, their milk-covered bodies glistening in the steamy glow, their eyes locked on him with a blend of adoration and raw desire as he lifted the bucket to his lips, his throat bobbing as the warm, creamy milk flowed down in slow, deliberate gulps.
The sight sent a shiver through them, their breaths quickening as they watched their essence disappear into him.
