Round 7

As Jeane entered the living room, her wings rustled softly, casting a gentle hum over the space. Her crimson eyes gleamed with insidious promise, drinking in the charged atmosphere between Hera and Abby. The cleric's voice was barely above a whisper as she drew near, her lips brushing against Abby's jaw: "Abby," she breathed, her touch light but purposeful. The air pulsed with unspoken desire, thick with tension that had been building all night long. Jeane's gaze locked onto the pair, her mind racing with ways to join them. Hera's fingers grazed Abby's jawline, sending sparks of pleasure through her, and Jeane's massive breasts heaved with each breath, nipples hard and leaking a thin stream of milk that glistened in the soft light.