100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 596: Chapter 595 - Sucking the Big Titties

He pulled out.

Both cock and tail withdrew, leaving her holes gaping and dripping. She collapsed forward onto the tile, her heavy body landing in the warm puddle of her own fluids, her face in the water, her ass still raised, her thick thighs trembling.

He twisted her.

Turned her onto her back.

She lay in the puddle — her heavy tits heaving, her thick thighs spread, her hairy cunt swollen and dark and dripping, her anal gaping and leaking.

He sat over her.

His cock — thick, wet, dark with her anal fluids — lay across her chest. The heavy, hot length of it rested between her heavy tits, the head pointing at her chin.

”Come on,” he said.

His voice was mild.

Patient.

”Massage them. I need your help to soothe my rage.”

Naro’s trembling hands found her own tits.

She pressed them together — the heavy, dense, mature flesh of her breasts wrapping around his cock, the stiff nipples scraping his shaft. She massaged him, her hands cupping her own tits, pushing them together, working them up and down his length.

His cock throbbed between her tits.

The head leaked pre-cum, the clear fluid running down her cleavage, mixing with the sweat and the water on her skin.

He sat on her.

His weight on her belly, his legs on either side of her thick body. His hand found her cunt — two fingers plunging inside, curling, finding the front wall, pressing.

”NGH~!!”

She gasped, her hands faltering on her tits.

”Keep going,” he said.

His fingers fucked her pussy while she massaged his cock with her tits. The dual action — her hands on her own breasts, his fingers in her cunt — created a rhythm that was both mechanical and intimate, the rhythm of a woman performing a task while being stimulated against her will.

She leaned forward.

Her tongue found his cockhead.

She licked it — a tentative, trembling, tear-streaked lick, the taste of her own anal filling her mouth. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she kept licking, her tongue swirling around the head, lapping at the pre-cum, her lips closing around it.

”Good girl,” he whispered.

The praise hit her like a slap.

She cried harder.

Her mouth worked his cockhead while her tits massaged his shaft and his fingers plunged in and out of her cunt. The wet, vulgar, beautiful obscenity of the scene — a mature, broken, grieving woman on a bathroom floor, covered in her own fluids, tit-fucking and sucking a royal half-demon while he fingered her — was everything.

He pushed forward.

Sat on her face.

His cock drove into her mouth, past her tongue, into her throat. Her hands left her tits, gripping his thighs, her fingers sinking into the hard muscle. She gagged, her throat convulsing, her eyes bulging.

PAH!

”GLKK~!! MMMPH~!! HNNGH~!!”

He fucked her mouth while his fingers fucked her pussy. The rhythm matched — his hips and his hand moving in sync, filling her from both ends.

Her body arched.

Her heavy tits heaved.

Her cunt clenched around his fingers.

She squirted again — a smaller, weaker stream, her body running low on fluid, but the orgasm was real. Her back arched off the tile, her thick thighs clamped together, her mouth full of cock.

”MMMMM~!!♡ GLKK~!! MMMPH~!!”

He came.

The thick, hot, flooding release of his seed directly into her mouth — the bitter, salty, overwhelming flood filling her cheeks, her throat, running down into her belly. She swallowed convulsively, her throat working around him, her eyes rolling back.

He pulled out slowly.

His cock emerged wet and shining, her lips swollen, cum bubbling at the corners of her mouth.

”Ah,” he said.

His voice was warm, satisfied.

”I need more.”

She gasped.

”Come on. We need to become each other’s support, right?”

He smacked her.

His hand across her face — not brutal, but firm, the smack of a man claiming attention. Her head rocked to the side, her ears ringing, her eyes swimming.

She looked up at him.

Tear-filled, cum-stained, utterly broken.

”Indeed,” she whispered.

Her voice was thick, muffled, the voice of a woman speaking through a mouthful of seed.

”We should.”

His cock was still in her mouth.

She couldn’t speak clearly — the words came out garbled, broken, the consonants softened by the flesh filling her oral cavity.

”Ah— wed— shou—”

He pulled out.

The wet pop of her lips releasing him.

She coughed.

Cum and spit ran down her chin, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

He lifted her.

His hands under her arms, pulling her up from the wet floor. She was big — larger than him, heavier, the full, dense, mature weight of a woman who had been a commander and a cook and a mother. Her heavy tits pressed against his chest, her thick thighs bracketing his hips.

But she was jiggly.

Soft.

The flesh trembling, shaking, the aftershocks of everything running through her body in continuous waves. Her thick ass quivered against his hands as he lifted her.

She was crying.

The pain — physical, emotional, the total, comprehensive pain of a woman who had been opened and used and broken and remade — was still flowing.

She didn’t notice where he was taking her.

Her eyes were closed, her head on his shoulder, her tears soaking into his neck. He carried her out of the bathroom, through the kitchen, up the stairs. Her heavy body limp in his arms, her thick thighs swaying with each step, her hairy cunt dripping a trail of fluid on the floorboards.

The bedroom.

His bedroom — the one she had given him, the one with the narrow bed that had started everything.

He carried her inside.

He closed the door.

He chuckled.

”Bon appétit,” he said.

He threw her on the bed.

She cried out as she landed — her heavy body bouncing on the mattress, her tits flying upward and then crashing back down, her thick thighs splaying, her skirt riding up to her waist.

He jumped on her.

The full weight of him landing between her legs, his cock — hard again, always hard, the incubus bloodline fed by her grief and her fluid and her submission — pressing against her swollen, hairy cunt.

He entered her.

PAH!

”AAANNNH~!!♡♡!!”

The mating press.

He folded her — her thick thighs pressed back toward her shoulders, her knees beside her ears, her heavy tits compressed between their bodies. Her thick ass lifted off the bed, her cunt presented upward, open, available.

He drove all twelve inches into her.

The full, impossible, devastating length of his cock — not nine, not ten, but the complete, bloodline-enhanced, incubus-fed twelve inches — plunged into her cunt. The head hit her cervix.

And broke through.

”AAAIIEEENGHHH~~~!!!♡♡♡!!!”

Her scream was inhuman.

The cervix — the tight, muscular barrier that was never meant to be breached — gave way under the pressure. His cockhead pushed through into her womb, the raw, inner, sacred chamber of her body opening to him.

And his tail.

It found her anal again — the wet, gaping, used rim — and pushed inside. Deep. Deeper than before. The tail plunged into her anal and vibrated, the hum resonating through the wall between her anal and her cunt, pressing against his cock through her flesh, vibrating directly against her womb from behind.

The dual sensation — his cock in her womb, his tail vibrating in her anal — was annihilating.

Her mouth opened.

No sound came out.

Her eyes rolled back, showing white.

Her body went rigid, every muscle locked, her heavy tits crushed between them, her thick thighs trembling against his shoulders.

He sucked her tits.

”Slurppp.... mmmhmmmpp~~!!”