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

Chapter 636: Chapter 635 - Tit Fucking Two Thick Ladies

She looked at her boyfriend.

He was glaring. The particular, white-knuckled, jaw-clenched, vine-struggling rage of a man who was watching another man touch his woman and could not stop it. His eyes were locked on Viktor’s hand — on the fingers sinking into the demon woman’s tit, on the palm covering the nipple, on the particular, shameless, public display of ownership that was being performed in front of him.

”Stop,” the demon woman said. Her voice was breathless. ”He is seeing.”

She tried to push Viktor’s hand away. Her own hand — smaller, weaker, the demon-kin frame not matching the dense, supernatural strength in his arm — pressed against his wrist. The push accomplished nothing. His hand did not move.

Evriana grabbed her.

The princess’s hand — the one not on Viktor’s cock — shot out and caught the demon woman’s wrist. The grip was firm, the particular, noble, I-was-raised-to-give-orders grip of a woman who had spent her life commanding soldiers and was now commanding a demon.

She pulled.

The demon woman’s hand was dragged from Viktor’s wrist and placed — directly, deliberately, with the particular, guided, instructional precision of a woman who had learned from watching — on his cock.

On the tip.

The crimson head, swollen, wet with pre-cum, hot against the demon woman’s palm. The particular, searing, undeniable heat of an erection that was not going away.

”Massage it,” Evriana said.

The words were quiet. Commanding. The voice of a princess delivering an order to a subordinate.

”Don’t you hear Viktor?”

The demon woman trembled.

Her hand was on his cock. The head — thick, broad, the ridge-crowned tip that was wider than the shaft — sat in her palm, the pre-cum slicking her skin, the heat radiating into her fingers. She could feel his pulse. The particular, rhythmic, throbbing beat of blood in an organ that was designed to tear women apart.

”No,” she said. ”I would not.”

Evriana slapped her.

PAH!

The flat-palm strike across the demon woman’s cheek — the sharp, quick, disciplinary slap of a woman who was not asking. The demon woman’s head rocked to the side. Her eyes went wide, the particular, shocked, I-was-just-hit-by-a-princess expression of a woman who had never been struck by a human.

”You are a demon,” Evriana said.

The words were cold. The particular, noble, hierarchical, I-am-above-you delivery of a woman who had spent her life in a world where demons were the enemy and humans were the rulers.

”Do it.”

The demon woman’s eyes filled with tears.

The particular, helpless, cornered, what-choice-do-I-have tears of a woman whose boyfriend was tied up, whose powers were nullified, whose body was being held, and whose options had been reduced to one.

She stroked.

Her hand moved. Slowly. The particular, trembling, uncertain, first-time motion of a woman who had never touched a cock this large and was trying to understand how her fingers were supposed to accommodate the girth. Her hand wrapped around the shaft — barely, the fingers not meeting, the thickness exceeding her grip — and moved.

Up. Down. The motion mechanical, the particular, I-am-doing-this-because-I-have-to rhythm of a woman performing under duress.

Viktor looked at her.

The violet eyes — warm, amused, the particular, appreciative, ’good-girl’ gaze of a man who was watching two women service his cock and was enjoying the contrast — settled on her face.

”Aren’t you a good wife,” he said.

The words were warm. The particular, teasing, possessive compliment of a man who was calling a demon woman ’wife’ while her boyfriend watched from the vines.

He leaned.

His mouth found the demon woman’s breast — through the black fabric, his lips closing around the stiff nipple, the wet, hot contact of a mouth on a clothed breast. He sucked through the material. The fabric darkened with saliva. The nipple — stiff, dark, pressed outward — was visible through the wet cloth, the particular, obscene, see-through effect of liquid on tight fabric.

Evriana twitched.

Her whole body — the particular, involuntary, full-body, jealous, ’he-is-sucking-her-boob-not-mine’ twitch of a woman who was holding his cock and watching him suck another woman’s tit. Her hand tightened on his shaft. Her stroking accelerated — the particular, competitive, ’pay-attention-to-me’ rhythm of a woman who wanted his mouth back on her.

She looked at him.

At his face on the demon woman’s breast. At his lips around the nipple. At his violet eyes — which were looking at ’her’, not at the demon woman, the particular, devastating, ’I-am-watching-you-while-I-suck-her’ gaze that made Evriana’s pussy clench.

’Are you looking, elder sister?’ she thought.

The thought was addressed to Celestia. To the elder sister who had saved her, who had taught her, who had fucked this man and had not told her.

’I am breast-feeding Viktor,’ she thought. ’He seems to like it.’

She gasped.

The thought — the particular, filthy, delirious, ’I-am-breast-feeding-my-nephew’ thought — sent a wave of heat through her body that concentrated in her cunt. The wetness between her legs — already substantial, already soaking — intensified.

Viktor pulled off.

The demon woman’s nipple emerged from his mouth — wet, swollen, the fabric transparent with saliva, the dark peak visible beneath. He released it. Looked at Evriana.

”I want you to sit down,” he said.

Evriana knelt.

The motion was immediate, obedient, the particular, trained, ’yes-Master’ descent of a woman whose body had learned to respond to his voice before her mind could intervene. Her knees found the stone floor of the cave, the cold surface grounding her, her heavy tits hanging forward, the stiff nipples pointing at the ground.

”What do you want?” she said.

The question was breathless. Eager. The particular, ’tell-me-what-to-do’ question of a woman who had surrendered.

Viktor slapped the demon woman again.

PAH!

The second strike — harder than the first, the particular, disciplinary, ’you-did-not-do-what-I-said’ slap that sent the demon woman stumbling. She fell to her knees. The particular, forced, graceless descent of a woman whose legs had given out.

”Lift her boobs,” Viktor said. ”Mash them between your tits.”

Evriana looked at the demon woman.

The cloaked figure was on her knees, her cheek red, her eyes wet, her black bodysuit torn at the collar from the earlier handling. She was trembling, her hands at her sides, her mouth open, the particular, overwhelmed, what-is-happening expression of a woman whose night had gone from bad to catastrophic.

”No,” the demon woman said. ”I would not do it.”

Evriana pulled.

Her hands found the demon woman’s bodysuit — the black fabric that covered her from neck to toe — and pulled. The particular, ripping, tearing, ’I-do-not-have-time-for-this’ violence of a woman who was following orders and would not be delayed by fabric.

The suit tore.

The black material splitting down the chest, the fabric parting, revealing — not bare skin, but a bra. The particular, demon-kin undergarment — a wrap of dark cloth that covered the breasts, tied in the front, the fabric straining against the flesh it contained.

Her boobs emerged.

The bra was pulled away, the fabric falling, and the demon woman’s breasts were visible. They were — thick. Fatty. The particular, dense, heavy, young-flesh quality of a woman whose body had not yet reached full maturity but was already substantial. The boobs were smaller than Evriana’s — the princess’s massive, Catorian-built tits dwarfing them — but they were shaped beautifully. Round. Full. The nipples long — the particular, elongated, dark, arranged peaks that marked a demon-kin bloodline, the nipples longer than a human’s, the areolas smaller, the tips pronounced.

She tried to cover them.

Her hands flying to her chest, crossing, the particular, protective, ’my-boobs-are-out’ gesture of a woman whose modesty had been violated.

Evriana slapped her tits.

PHALP! SMACK!

The flat-palm strikes against the demon woman’s exposed breasts — the heavy, dense flesh rippling, the long nipples absorbing the impact, the sound sharp and wet. The demon woman cried out, her hands flying to her face, the particular, overwhelmed, ’I-am-being-hit-on-my-boobs’ reaction of a woman who had never been struck there.

”You kill humans,” Evriana said.

The words were cold. The particular, righteous, ’you-are-a-demon-and-I-am-a-princess’ delivery of a woman who had spent her life fighting demons and was now using one as a sex toy.

”You should be feeling grateful that he chooses your boobs for it.”

She pulled the bra away completely. Tossed the torn fabric aside. Then — her own hands finding the demon woman’s shoulders — she pressed forward.

Their tits met.

The particular, soft, warm, flesh-on-flesh contact of two pairs of breasts pressing together. Evriana’s massive, heavy, Ktorian-built tits — the pale, dense flesh, the dark nipples — mashing against the demon woman’s smaller, rounder, longer-nippled breasts.

The flesh compressed between them, the four nipples meeting, the particular, obscene, visual of two women pressing their boobs together around a cock.

Viktor’s cock slid between them.