A year of Separation....

As I pulled out, a thick, almost absurd amount of my seed mingled with Helen's overflowing fluids, spilling out in a glistening stream. The sheer volume was astonishing—enough that even the deep crimson of her blood had faded into a lighter pink, some traces disappearing entirely beneath the flood of release.

I took a step back from the sweat-drenched bed, surveying the aftermath. The sheets were in complete disarray, twisted and damp with the evidence of our sex. My body, surprisingly, was still brimming with energy. I wasn't exhausted in the slightest—physically, at least. But mentally? There was an undeniable sense of satisfaction, a deep, primal fulfillment that came from claiming the most beautiful woman in the world. After such an experience, how could I not feel this way?