The climax

The moonlit sky, a canvas above, I knew this night would be glorious.

My dick grew larger, my balls swelled with power, Each thrust into her open snatch, The squishes of her orgasm filled the valley, Her squeals of ecstasy, a wondrous catch.

Two other witches bit and sucked her nipples, Like tiny dicks, they teased, While fingering each other, they moaned, Their pleasure, like a sweet, soft breeze.

A fourth witch sucked my left testicle, Her lips, warm and soft, The fifth slapped my mouth with her pussy lips, Her taste, a sensation aloft.

In a pentagram of sexual pleasure, I drowned in pussy juices, from each witch, Taking turns, fulfilling their desire, My body grew strong, my heart, a stitch.

Suddenly, I erupted, filling her womb, With my seed, the coven's hope, The next queen, a vision of beauty, Born from this sexual ropes.

The fog lifted, daylight shining, I stood there, alone, no coven in sight, The town's men watched, their heads low, Acknowledging the power of the night.

My clothes barely fit, my muscles bulging, My new flaccid penis, larger than my old erect, The women and some men, desiring me, Their hearts, forever, connected.

And so began my new life, In the woods, my home, The women and men, a community, Their love, forever, my monument.

Through the years, I grew stronger, The coven's power, a trail, My body, a vessel of pleasure, To create, to love, to prevail.