Here's Sarah!

While Lydia was off hunting for Sarah, Emma didn't just stand still. She took the opportunity to drift back into the heart of the party, weaving through the clusters of men in tailored tuxedos and women in shimmering gowns. She wanted to see if the "importance" she had sensed earlier was real or if it was just the perfume of wealth masking a lack of actual substance.

She approached a small circle of men who were speaking in hushed, urgent tones about offshore accounts and legislative loopholes. One of them, a man with silver hair and a sharp, predatory gaze, noticed her. He didn't look at her face first; his eyes dropped immediately to the heavy, unmistakable protrusion stretching the fabric of her dress. He let out a small, involuntary huff of breath, his pupils dilating.

"You're the one everyone is whispering about," the man said, his voice attempting to be commanding, though there was a tremor of curiosity in it. "I'm Julian. I handle the portfolios for half the people in this room."

Emma smiled, a soft, unassuming expression that didn't quite reach her eyes. She didn't lead with a demand; instead, she played the part of the intrigued guest. "Is that so? And does that make you the most powerful man here, Julian?"

Julian chuckled, leaning in. "Power is relative, my dear. But in this city, I can make things happen. I can open doors that stay locked for everyone else."

Emma listened as he spoke, but as the conversation progressed, she noticed something. Every time Lydia’s husband—the man Marcus had mentioned was a titan of industry—walked past or spoke to someone across the room, Julian’s posture changed. He didn't just respect the man; he deferred to him. He shifted his weight, lowered his voice, and waited for a nod of approval that never came.

She moved on to another group, talking to a high-ranking diplomat and a venture capitalist. They all had the same pattern. They spoke in grand terms about their influence, but the moment the real power in the room shifted, they became satellites orbiting a larger sun. They were "important" only because they served the truly powerful. They were managers, handlers, and advisors—nobodies with fancy titles who lived in fear of the people they worked for.

Emma felt a wave of amusement. These men, who she had initially thought might be useful tools for her ascent, were nothing more than polished ornaments. They had no real autonomy, no true strength. They were just as fragile as George had been, only they wore better clothes. The only man in the room who seemed to possess a genuine, crushing authority was Lydia’s husband, and even he was currently oblivious to the fact that his wife was plotting to be ruined by a woman with a sixteen-inch cock.

The realization made Emma feel even more superior. She wasn't just physically superior; she was seeing through the facade of the entire social hierarchy. The patriarchy she was dismantling wasn't a monolith of strength; it was a house of cards held together by etiquette and fear.

As she was finishing a conversation with a nervous-looking senator, she saw Lydia returning. Beside her was another woman, Sarah. Sarah was slightly taller than Lydia, with a more athletic build and a gaze that was far more predatory. She was wearing a deep emerald dress that clung to her curves, and the moment her eyes landed on Emma—specifically on the massive, throbbing bulge—she stopped dead in her tracks.

Lydia looked triumphant. "Emma, this is Sarah. I've told her everything. Well, most of everything."

Sarah didn't say a word at first. She stepped forward, her eyes locked on the fabric of Emma's dress. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and brushed the tip of the bulge. The sheer size of it was staggering; even through the dress, the thickness was undeniable. Sarah let out a shaky breath, her face flushing a deep crimson.

"You weren't lying," Sarah whispered, her voice thick with lust. "Lydia said you were... exceptional. But this... this is impossible."

Emma didn't snap or command them. She kept her tone conversational, almost modest, which only served to make the women more desperate. "I'm just a bit more gifted than most," Emma replied with a small shrug. "I hope you're both sure about this. Like I told Lydia, I'm not easy to accommodate. I don't want to be responsible for any... accidents."

Sarah looked up at Emma, her eyes wide and pleading. "I don't care. I've spent my whole life being bored by men who think they're big because they have a company. I want something that actually feels like it can take over. Please. Let's just go."

Lydia nodded fervently. "The car is waiting outside. We can be home in ten minutes. No one will know, and no one will interrupt."

Emma looked back at the room one last time. She saw Julian and the others, still pretending to be the masters of the universe, unaware that the real power had just walked out the door. She felt a surge of anticipation. She had played the game of social graces for long enough. Now, it was time to move from the ballroom to the bedroom, where the only currency that mattered was the size of her cock and the willingness of these women to submit to it.

"Lead the way," Emma said softly.

The three of them moved quickly through the party, the guests parting like the Red Sea. The whispers followed them—speculation about where the mysterious woman with the bulge was going and why two of the most prominent wives in the circle were escorting her with such urgency.

As they stepped into the cool night air and slid into the plush leather interior of a waiting limousine, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The silence of the car was heavy with sexual tension. Lydia and Sarah sat on either side of Emma, their thighs pressing against hers. Emma could feel them both staring, their breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

Emma leaned back into the seat, letting her legs spread slightly. The movement caused the fabric of her dress to tighten even further, the head of her massive cock pushing prominently against the cloth. She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. The sight of her member, straining for release, was the only conversation that mattered now. As the car sped away from the party and toward the fortress of privacy Lydia had promised, Emma knew that by the time the sun rose, these two women would be completely transformed by the weight of her dominance.

While I will release the chapters here day by day, one at a time, if you want to read ahead, I will highly advise to go visit my ream here (and consider supporting if you have some income):-

https://reamstories.com/jonnysixis

https://mybook.to/amazon-thenewagewriter