She watched us, panting and trying to catch her breath. She watched our hands even though they were hidden under the fabric of our pants. I stroked myself harder, letting out my frustrated moan that was desperate for release. Her pouty lips parted, her eyes unwilling to leave my hand. “Take…what,” I repeated, my hand pumping faster, my breath coming out in ragged, husky whispers just like my brother's groans of need. Pharaoh growled next, stepping closer to her and the wall. “You,” he said. Last was Judas, his pounding hand frantic as he cemented the words of our threat, walking forward to
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