The woman guard took him towards a bed in a back room

The guard's grip on John's arm tightened, her touch firm and insistent. "Not yet, big boy," she purred, her voice a low, husky whisper. "I've got something better for you. A little private show, just for you."

She led him through a maze of velvet curtains and dimly lit corridors, the sounds of the party fading into a distant hum. They arrived at a small, intimate room, the walls painted a deep, sensual red, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood. In the center of the room was a large, four-poster bed, the sheets a tangled mess of black silk.

The guard fully slip out of her uniform. Her body was a masterpiece of muscle and curves, her breasts full and firm, her waist tapering to a pair of hips that could make a saint weep. She moved with a grace that was almost predatory, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

"You're a special one, you know that?" she said, her voice a low, husky purr. "Most men, they come in here, they get lost in the chaos, the debauchery. But you... you've got a fire in you. A purpose. It's... intoxicating. Your fighting against this depravity but we both know it a losing cause."

She pushed him onto the bed, his body sinking into the soft silk. She climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips, her hands on his chest. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "I want to feel that fire," she whispered. "I want to be consumed by it."

She pulls out a clear liquid. "Let lube up your cock big boy. I want to feel every inch of you bottoming out in me."

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