The rain pounded against the windows of George’s modest apartment, a rhythmic drumming that matched the restless pulse of his thoughts. He sat on the edge of his couch, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at the empty space where his wife’s photograph once hung. The ache of loss was still there, but it had morphed into something else—a hunger, a void that whiskey couldn’t fill. He ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair and sighed. What am I even doing? he thought. Living like this, alone, when the world is so… alive?His phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen. An unfamiliar number. He hesitated, then swiped to answer. “George,” the voice on the other end was smooth, velvety, and carried an edge that sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ve been looking for you.” His grip tightened on the phone. “Who is this?” “Pantheris,” she purred, the name rolling off her tongue like a secret whispered in the dark. “I think it’s time we met.” George’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know how she got his number, but her voice—god, her voice—was impossible to ignore. It was as if she had reached through the phone and wrapped her fingers around his thoughts, pulling him closer. “Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because you’re bored. Because you’re lonely. Because… you’re curious.” Her tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it, a dare. “I can give you what you need, George. But you have to trust me.” He swallowed hard. “What do you want from me?” “Everything,” she said simply, the word hanging in the air between them like a promise—or a threat. “Meet me at the Black Orchid Club tonight. Midnight. Don’t be late.” Before he could respond, the line went dead. George stared at the phone, his mind racing. He didn’t know who she was or what she wanted, but something deep inside him stirred—an instinct, primal and undeniable. He glanced at the clock. It was already 11:15. \---The Black Orchid Club was tucked away in the heart of the city, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. Red velvet drapes framed the entrance, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and something darker, more intoxicating. George stepped inside, his leather jacket damp from the rain, and immediately felt out of place. The club was alive with a low hum of energy, the kind that made his skin tingle. A woman approached him, her movements fluid and predatory. She was dressed in a sleek black catsuit that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her hair was a cascade of midnight black, and her eyes—golden, almost feline—locked onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “George,” she said, her voice that same velvety purr he’d heard on the phone. “I’m Pantheris.” Jesus Christ, he thought. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was something dangerous about her, something that made his instincts scream to run. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, unable—or unwilling—to look away. “You came,” she said, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t have a choice,” he admitted, his voice rough. She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh, George. You always have a choice. You’re here because you want to be.” She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. “Do you know why I called you tonight?” He shook his head, his throat dry. “Because I can see it in you,” she said, her fingers brushing against his chest. “That hunger. That need. You’ve been holding back, trying to bury it, but it’s still there, isn’t it? Just beneath the surface.” Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of heat through him. He wanted to protest, to pull away, but he couldn’t. He was frozen, mesmerized by her. “I can give you what you’re craving,” she whispered, her lips grazing his ear. “But it’s going to cost you.” “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Your control,” she said, her eyes boring into his. “I want you to give it to me. Completely.” George’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t know what she meant, but the way she was looking at him—like he was already hers—made something inside him snap. “And if I don’t?” he asked, his voice trembling. She smiled, a slow, predatory grin. “You will.” Before he could respond, she took his hand and led him deeper into the club, down a dimly lit hallway lined with doors. She stopped in front of one, pushed it open, and gestured for him to step inside. The room was dark, the only light coming from a single, flickering candle on a low table. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and something else—something wild, untamed. Pantheris closed the door behind them and turned to face him. “Take off your clothes,” she said, her voice soft but firm. George stared at her, his mind racing. “What?” “You heard me,” she said, stepping closer. “I want to see you. All of you.” His hands trembled as he reached for the zipper of his jacket. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that made it impossible to refuse. As he stripped down to nothing, Pantheris’s eyes roamed over his body, taking in every detail. She let out a low, approving hum. “Perfect,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She stepped closer, her hand trailing down his chest, sending a shiver through him. Her touch was electric, and he could feel his body responding, his cock hardening under her gaze. “Do you trust me, George?” she asked, her golden eyes locked on his. He hesitated, then nodded. “Good,” she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Because tonight, you’re mine.” Before he could respond, she sank to her knees in front of him, her hands sliding up his thighs. His breath caught in his throat as she looked up at him, her lips parted, her eyes glowing with desire. “Open your mouth,” she commanded, her voice low and husky. He obeyed, his body trembling with anticipation. She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin, and then— The door burst open. Pantheris looked up, her eyes narrowing. “What the—?” George turned, his heart pounding as a figure stepped into the room, shadowed in the dim light. “Pantheris,” the voice growled. “You’ve been avoiding me.” She stood slowly, her body radiating tension. “This doesn’t concern you,” she said, her voice cold. The figure stepped closer, and George could see the man clearly now—tall, muscular, with eyes that burned with a feral intensity. “Oh, but it does,” the man said, his gaze flickering to George. “You think you can just take what’s mine?” Pantheris smirked. “He’s not yours. He’s mine.” The man’s lips curled into a snarl. “We’ll see about that.”

__“You’re mine, George. Every inch of you.”__ Her voice was low, sultry, and commanding, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Pantheris’ eyes locked onto his, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she leaned over him, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a veil of shadow. His breath hitched, his body trembling beneath her as her nails traced down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake. __“Do you feel it yet? That surrender? That *need*?”__

George swallowed hard, his pulse racing. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers, even as his mind screamed at him to pull away, to resist. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was something about her—something primal, untamed, and utterly intoxicating—that made him want to give in, to let her take control. __“Pantheris…”__ His voice was barely a whisper, strained and trembling, like a man teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with dark amusement. __“Shh. Don’t speak. Just feel.”__

---

It had started just hours ago. George had been at the bar, nursing a whiskey in the corner, his thoughts heavy with the weight of loneliness. He hadn’t been with anyone since his wife passed—three years of self-imposed celibacy, of burying himself in work and pretending he didn’t crave the warmth of another body, the reassurance of a touch. But tonight, something had shifted. Something had drawn him here, to this dimly lit dive, where the air smelled of stale beer and sweat, and the shadows seemed to whisper promises of things he couldn’t quite name.

And then she walked in.

Pantheris. She moved like a predator, her every step deliberate, her presence impossible to ignore. She wore a tight black dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, the fabric shimmering faintly in the low light. Her eyes scanned the room, sharp and calculating, before landing on him. And then she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core.

She slid into the seat beside him, her scent wrapping around him like a spell—something wild, intoxicating, and utterly irresistible. __“You look like a man who’s been alone too long,”__ she purred, her voice dripping with sensuality. __“Am I wrong?”__

George stared at her, his throat dry, his mind struggling to form a coherent response. __“I… uh…”__

She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down his spine. __“Relax, George. I don’t bite… unless you want me to.”__

He blinked, his heart pounding. __“How do you know my name?”__

Her smile widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. __“I know a lot of things about you. Like how you’ve been burying yourself in work, trying to forget how empty you feel. How you crave connection but are too afraid to reach for it. How you’ve never let anyone truly *take* you.”__

George’s breath caught, his chest tightening. __“Who… who are you?”__

She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, __“I’m the woman who’s going to set you free.”__

---

And now here he was, lying on his back in her darkened bedroom, his wrists bound to the headboard with silken cords, his body laid bare before her. Pantheris stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes raking over him like a wolf sizing up its prey. __“You have no idea how beautiful you are like this,”__ she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. __“Vulnerable. Open. *Mine.*”__

George’s heart pounded, his mind a whirlwind of desire and fear. He wanted to resist, to tell her he wasn’t ready for this, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he could only stare at her, his body betraying him as arousal coiled tightly in his gut.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him effortlessly, her weight pressing him into the mattress. Her hands roamed over his chest, her touch electric, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. __“Do you trust me, George?”__ she asked, her voice soft but laced with steel.

He hesitated, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. __“I… I don’t know.”__

Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes darkening with something that sent a shiver down his spine. __“Good. That’s when it’s the most exciting.”__

Her hands slid lower, her nails grazing his abdomen before wrapping around his length, drawing a choked gasp from his lips. __“You’ve been so neglected, haven’t you?”__ she murmured, her tone almost pitying. __“So desperate for release, but too afraid to let go. Don’t worry, George. I’ll take care of you.”__

Her touch was maddening—gentle yet firm, teasing yet purposeful. She stroked him slowly, watching his face intently as he writhed beneath her, his gasps and moans filling the room. __“That’s it,”__ she encouraged, her voice a sultry purr. __“Let go. Give yourself to me.”__

And he did. He surrendered completely, his mind going blank as pleasure consumed him, his body arching off the bed as he spilled into her hand. Pantheris watched him with a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with dark triumph. __“Good boy,”__ she murmured, her voice dripping with praise. __“But we’re just getting started.”__

Before George could even catch his breath, she was moving again, her hands sliding down to his thighs, spreading them wide. Her gaze locked onto his as she leaned in, her breath hot against his skin. __“You’ve never done this before, have you?”__ she asked, her voice low and teasing.

George’s eyes widened, his heart racing. __“W-wait…”__

She grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light. __“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle… at first.”__

And then her tongue was on him, licking and teasing, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through him. George gasped, his back arching as heat pooled low in his gut. __“Pantheris…!”__

She paused, looking up at him with a wicked smile. __“Yes, George?”__

He stared at her, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—fear, desire, shame, and something else, something *primal* that he couldn’t quite name. __“I… I don’t know if I can…”__

Her smile softened, her eyes gleaming with understanding. __“You can,”__ she assured him, her voice firm but gentle. __“You just have to trust me.”__

And then she was moving again, her tongue probing deeper, her hands gripping his hips to keep him still. George’s breath hitched, his body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over him. __“Pantheris!”__ he gasped, his voice breaking. __“I… I can’t…”__

She pulled back, her eyes locking onto his, dark and intense. __“Yes, you can,”__ she insisted, her voice low and commanding. __“Give yourself to me, George. Let me take you to places you’ve never imagined.”__

And before he could protest, she was back at it, her tongue working him expertly, her hands keeping him pinned to the bed. George’s mind reeled, his body convulsing as pleasure consumed him, his cries filling the room. __“Pantheris… please…”__

She didn’t stop. She *couldn’t* stop. Not now. Not when he was so close, so *beautifully* broken. She wanted more. She wanted *everything.* And she wouldn’t stop until she had it.

George, a man longing for connection after years of solitude, finds himself irresistibly drawn to Pantheris, a mysterious and alluring woman who commands his surrender. Their encounter unfolds in a dark bedroom, where Pantheris takes control, exploring George's virginity with a mix of dominance, tenderness, and a deep understanding of his hidden desires. The narrative delves into themes of submission, vulnerability, and the primal allure of giving oneself over to another's touch.

Pantheris' Erotic Claiming of George's Virgin Ass

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