Devon's escape from the hall had been a masterclass, the city's pulse throbbed around him: honking horns and distant sirens.

He arrived at the address he had seen on the file, his brows furrowed.

"Classic Shaves & Fades" in letters that had long since surrendered to rust. Devon paused at the threshold, confusion flickered across his chiseled features as he cross-checked the coordinates.

There was no mistake, this was indeed the spot. What kind of "meeting" hid behind a facade like this?

He exhaled slowly, centering himself, and pushed through the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The place looked like it had been forgotten for years. The linoleum floors were worn down, the mirrors cloudy with age, and the air smelled of old hair gel and cheap cigars. Empty barber chairs stood in a row, their cracked vinyl showing years of use. No customers were around.

Then, from a dark corner, a huge man stepped forward,a massive, tattooed bouncer with a shaved head that shone under the flickering lights, his dark eyes watching closely.

"Regular or special package?" the man growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

Devon's expression remained unreadable, ""I'm here for the meeting," Devon replied, his tone deep and glacial, carrying the weight of authority.

The words hung heavy in the stale air. The bouncer and barber exchanged a loaded glance, a silent interrogation passing between them like a coded signal.

Then, from the depths of a curtained alcove, a disembodied voice slithered out. "What's the passcode?"

Devon didn't blink. "Whiskers." he answered.

A pause, then the voice sounded again. "You're welcome to the Velvet Lounge."

Velvet Lounge.

Devon's expression changed for just a moment—his gray eyes narrowing with a hint of curiosity and caution—but the look vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual calm.

The bouncer gave a low grunt of approval, pushed aside the beaded curtain with one thick hand, and motioned for Devon to go through.

Beyond lay a narrow corridor, dimly lit by a single crimson bulb that cast elongated shadows like fingers reaching out. The air grew warmer, heavier, infused with a faint undercurrent of musk and jasmine.

As Devon descended a short flight of concrete steps, the distant thrum of bass began to pulse through the walls, growing into a heartbeat that synced with his own. Voices filtered in—moans, laughter, gasps—building like a symphony of sin. The door at the bottom swung open, and he stepped in.

The sight hit him, his composure tested as his eyes widened fractionally, as he looked at the scene in front of him. This wasn't a mere lounge; it was a temple to hedonism, a full-blown orgy club. Bodies writhed in every corner under pulsating strobe lights that painted skin in hues of scarlet and indigo.

The air was electric, saturated with the raw scents of sweat, arousal, and spilled champagne— a heady cocktail that made his pulse quicken despite himself.

Complete nudity was the unspoken law here, flesh on shameless display in a panorama that blurred the lines between fantasy and flesh.

Devon's gaze swept the room, to his left, a curvaceous redhead knelt before a towering man, her full lips stretched obscenely wide around his throbbing, vein-riddled cock, the fat head bulging her throat as she deep-throated him balls-deep with sloppy, wet gags—gluck-gluck-gluck.

Spit bubbled from the corners of her mouth like a cum-fountain, cascading down her chin and splattering onto her massive, jiggling tits, nipples hard as diamonds and pierced with silver bars.

The man fisted her hair roughly, skull-fucking her whore mouth with brutal thrusts, his hairy balls slapping her chin raw, grunting like a beast as pre-cum mixed with her throat slime in a frothy, bubbling mess that dripped onto the floor in puddles.

Further along, an elderly woman with a snow-white hair reclined on a plush ottoman, her wrinkled skin flushed with ecstasy, legs splayed wide to expose her dripping, hairy old cunt—lips swollen and gaping like a well-fucked sleeve.

A young, athletic Adonis knelt between her thighs, his face buried in her sloppy wet granny pussy, tongue plunging deep into her loose folds with filthy slurps—schlick-schlick-schlick—sucking her engorged clit like a ripe berry while three fingers knuckle-fucked her squirting hole, coated in her creamy, fishy juices.

She bucked wildly like a bitch in heat, moaning "Fuck my old snatch harder!" her hands yanking his hair as she squirted a hot, pissy gush of pussy nectar all over his face and chest, the liquid splashing audibly and running in rivulets down his toned abs, soaking his cock stiff below.

No shame in age here, only raw, unfiltered desire, her wrinkled asshole winking for a tongue next.

Deeper in the shadows, a muscular hunk bent over a leather sling, his firm ass cheeks spread wide by his own hands, exposing his tight, puckered shithole glistening with spit and lube.

A sultry brunette knelt behind him, her tongue diving straight into his dirty asshole, rimming him with nasty, swirling laps probing deep inside, tongue-fucking his musky depths while her fingers milked his heavy, cum-filled balls, squeezing out thick beads of pre-cum that dripped from his rock-hard 10-inch cock like sticky jizz honey.

He jerked himself furiously, shaft throbbing in his grip, groaning "Eat my ass, you filthy slut!" as she added two fingers to stretch his hole wide, prostate-milking him till his dick leaked profusely onto the floor in creamy puddles, his balls tightening for a massive load.

A group of three—two women and a man—entwined on a king-sized platform bed, the air thick with their mingled scents of cum, sweat, and ass.

One woman rode the man's face reverse-cowgirl, her shaved, puffy pussy grinding down on his eager mouth, his tongue spearing her dripping slit while he slurped her puckered asshole too, lips smacking wetly—smack-slurp-smack—her clit grinding against his nose as she humped his face like a fuck toy, farting pussy juice into his throat.

The other straddled his hips, impaling herself on his massive cock with a guttural scream, her tight cunt stretching around his girth like a glove, inner walls clenching and milking him as she bounced hard, tits flopping wildly, pussy cream coating his shaft and balls in a frothy white ring that foamed with each slam.

Nearby, a daisy chain of six bodies looped in a circle of oral filth—cocks rammed down gagging throats till puke-spit flew, pussies devoured with tongues buried knuckle-deep in shit-lubed asses, assholes finger-banged raw and licked clean of cum.

Each participant lost in a haze of mutual pleasure, bodies slick with ropes of jizz, throat slime, and squirt, shining under the lights like oiled-up porn stars begging for more cocks.

At the bar, a topless server with nipple piercings glinting like stars bent over the counter, her fat ass up high and cheeks spread as a patron pounded into her sopping wet cum-dump cunt from behind.

His thick cock slamming balls-deep with punishing force—slap-slap-slap—her cheeks rippling like jelly, old loads of stranger jizz oozing out around his shaft in sticky, creamy streams that trickled down her thighs and pooled on the floor.

She moaned like a bitch in heat, "Breed my whore hole!", pushing back to take every veiny inch, her tits swinging and smacking the bar top while she poured drinks one-handed, pussy farting wetly with each thrust, queefing cum bubbles.

Two other guys flanked her, one shoving his cock down her throat while the other fisted her asshole, knuckles-deep in her gaping shitter.

Mirrors lined the walls, multiplying the debauchery into infinity, reflecting endless loops of gaping cunts and asses being filled to overflowing, cocks exploding thick ropes of hot cum across faces, tits, and open mouths, pussies squirting pissy arcs into crowds, and double-stuffed assholes prolapsing from monster dildos.

The floor was a minefield of discarded toys, vibrators buzzing faintly in puddles of lube and piss, butt plugs slick with ass-to-mouth residue, horse-cock dildos coated in creamy fart slime, condoms bloated with jizz and pussy juice strewn like battlefield remnants adding to the chaotic, intoxicating allure.

Devon stood rooted, the bass vibrating through his veins, a subtle heat building in his core as the scenes assaulted his senses.

This was no ordinary den, it was a pressure cooker of erotic tension, where every glance promised invitation, every moan stoked the fire.

He felt the stirrings of arousal despite his mission focus—his cock twitching faintly against his thigh, a traitorous response to the symphony of sin, already half-hard from the vulgar overload.

Before he could fully process, two visions materialized from the haze, twin blonde, voluptuous and unapologetically nude, their bodies a masterpiece of curves and confidence. Mid-twenties, with sun-kissed skin glowing under the lights, their ample DD breasts swayed with each step, pink nipples pebbled from the charged atmosphere.

Shaved pussies peeked invitingly between toned thighs, asses plump and jiggling like ripe fruit begging to be plucked.

They approached with predatory grace, smiles curving full, glossed lips designed for sin.

"Welcome to paradise, stranger," the first purred, her voice a silken caress that sent a shiver down Devon's spine. "I'm Candy."

"And I'm Bambi," the second echoed, her eyes raking him with blatant hunger. "We're here to make sure you feel… right at home."

They flanked him, their bare skin brushing his clothed arms, the contact electric, a promise of more to come.

"Name?" Candy asked, tilting her head, her breath warm against his neck.

"Michael," he replied steadily, though the proximity stirred something primal, his voice dropping an octave.

Bambi's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Michael? Oh, honey, you're extremely dashing. Those sharp features, that brooding intensity you're like a storm waiting to break."

Candy nodded, her hand lightly grazing his bicep. "And so handsome it hurts. Built like a Greek god under that suit, I bet."

They exchanged a knowing glance, then Bambi leaned in closer, her breast pressing softly against his side. "But darling, Circle policy: nudity is mandatory. Clothes off—let's see what you're hiding."

Devon nodded, his pulse quickening as he complied, the act itself laced with erotic anticipation. He shrugged off his jacket first, folding it neatly despite the chaos. Then the shirt buttons popping open one by one, revealing a torso sculpted from years of brutal training, broad shoulders, chiseled pecs dusted with dark hair, abs rippling like coiled steel under scarred skin.

Pants next, sliding down to expose powerful thighs and, finally, boxers tugged free. His cock sprang semi-erect into view—thick, veined, nine inches of potent masculinity, heavy balls hanging below like a challenge.

The blondes' reactions were immediate, visceral. Candy's eyes widened, a flush creeping up her neck as she drank him in.

"Oh, fuck… look at that," she murmured, voice husky. Bambi bit her lip, thighs pressing together instinctively. "That's very huge."

They gathered his clothes with efficient grace, handing him a sleek black card embossed with VIP: Heaven's Corner. But Candy wasn't done.

She stepped boldly forward, her naked body molding against his, tits crushing softly against his chest, nipples dragging like fire across his skin. Her hand trailed down his abs, fingers dancing teasingly before wrapping around his shaft.

She stroked slow and deliberate—up, down—feeling it swell and harden in her grip, the velvety skin heating under her touch. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, which she smeared with her thumb in lazy circles, eliciting a low, involuntary growl from Devon.

"I'll be at Heaven's Corner if you need anything," she whispered hotly in his ear, her free hand cupping his balls gently, rolling them as she pumped.

"Deep throat till you see stars, my tight pussy milking you dry—whatever puts a smile on that gorgeous face."

One final, lingering stroke, leaving him throbbing and achingly hard, then she pulled back with a sultry smile.

Bambi winked, her own hand brushing his ass in parting promise. "Don't forget me, stud. We'll make it unforgettable."

They sauntered away, hips swaying in hypnotic invitation, disappearing into the writhing crowd.

Devon stood there, cock jutting proud and insistent, the erotic tension humming through him like a live wire. This hadn't been the plan—not even close.

With a deep breath, he pocketed the card and ventured deeper.

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