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

Chapter 810: Chapter 809- What a Feast

I grabbed her hands. Pulled them behind her back. The position — her arms pinned, her chest lifted, her breasts swinging free, her back arched — changed the angle. My cock hit deeper. The head pressed against her cervix. The barrier — firm, round, the gate to her womb — yielded. The head pushed through. Into her womb.

She screamed. Not a moan. Not a gasp. A scream — raw, primal, the sound of a woman whose body had been pushed past a boundary.

”AAANGH—!! — HAA — HAA — HAAANGH—!!!”

I fucked her like a bitch. The pace was relentless — fast, hard, deep, each thrust a collision. Her body — suspended, her arms pinned behind her, her weight on my cock — bounced. Her breasts — heavy, full, the nipples leaking milk — swung violently. Up. Down. Up. Down. The flesh in chaos, the weight pulling, the motion creating a rhythm of its own.

The mother — beneath, her pussy still filled with my vibrating tail, her body pressed against her daughter’s — watched. Her eyes — free of the blindfold, open, seeing everything — were wide. She could see her daughter’s face. The contortion. The pleasure. The pain. The ecstasy.

She could see her daughter being fucked. By her son-in-law. On a magic circle. While she herself was being fucked by his tail.

Her eyes rolled. Her own body — responding to the sight, to the sensation, to the overwhelming depravity of the situation — convulsed. She orgasmed. Again. The tail — vibrating, the oscillation at maximum frequency — drove her over the edge. Her pussy clamped. Her fluids — hot, thin — sprayed. The liquid hit my thigh, the circle, the floor.

I pulled out of Vespera. My cock — slick, throbbing, the head dark — emerged with a wet sound. She gasped — the sudden emptiness, the sudden cold. Her body — trembling, suspended — waited.

I pressed my cock against her anal.

She trembled. ”No — not there—” she whispered. ”Please — I told you—”

I slammed.

Pah PAH!

”AAANGH—!! — HAA — HAAANGH—!! — no — OUNGH—!! — it hurts — HIEEENGH—!! — it hurts—!!”

Her scream was devastating. The anal — tighter than her pussy, drier, the muscle fighting — gripped me. The walls — hot, the friction raw — clamped down. Each thrust was a negotiation. Each inch a battle.

The mother — beneath, watching — moaned. Her hands came up. Found her daughter’s face. Cradled it. The gesture was maternal. Instinctive. The touch of a mother comforting her child.

”Please, daughter,” she whispered. Her voice was gentle. Soft. The voice of a woman who had been through this exact experience hours ago and knew — intimately — what her daughter was feeling. ”Don’t cry. It will end. It’s not that painful.”

”It is—!!” Vespera sobbed. Her tears fell. Onto her mother’s chest. Onto the mother’s breasts. The salt water mixed with the sweat, the milk, the residue of hours of sex. ”It is — HAAANGH—!! — mother — OUNGH—!! — it hurts—!!”

”I know,” the mother whispered. She pulled her daughter’s face down. Into her chest. Between her breasts. The gesture — smothering, comforting, silencing — was the most maternal thing I’d ever seen. ”I know. Shhh. It will end.”

The daughter’s face — pressed into her mother’s cleavage, her mouth against the nipple — gasped. And then — the milk. The mother’s breast, stimulated by the contact, let down. The milk — thin, sweet, warm — flowed. Into Vespera’s mouth.

She drank. Instinctively. The taste — sweet, warm, the milk of her own mother — hit her tongue. She swallowed. And the effect was immediate. The wife package — the magical conditioning that made a woman’s body responsive to my seed, my milk, my energy — worked in reverse. The mother’s milk — infused with the energy I’d been pumping into her all day — transferred through the daughter’s mouth.

Vespera’s body responded. The pain — sharp, immediate, the anal stretching — faded. The pleasure — building, spreading, the warmth flowing from her stomach to her groin — intensified. Her anal loosened. The muscle relaxed. The resistance faded.

She moaned. The sound — muffled against her mother’s breast, the nipple in her mouth — was different. Not pain. Not protest. Pleasure. The pleasure of a woman whose body was adapting, transforming, becoming something that could accept what I was giving her.

”Mother—” she gasped, pulling from the nipple. Milk on her lips. Chin. ”You are — HAAANGH—!! — you are feeding me—”

”I know,” the mother said. Her own eyes — rolled back, the tail still vibrating in her pussy — were glazed. ”Drink more. It will help.”

”Help—?”

”Trust me.”

The daughter drank. Her mouth — latched onto her mother’s nipple, the suction rhythmic — pulled the milk. Each swallow — each drop of energy-infused milk — healed her body. The anal — stretched, sore — recovered. The pain faded. The pleasure built. Her body — growing hotter, more responsive, the skin smoothing — was transforming.

The mother — her breast being sucked, her own body responding to the dual stimulation of her daughter’s mouth and my tail — arched. Her eyes rolled. Her body convulsed. She orgasmed — again, the third or fourth, the count lost in the haze of continuous stimulation. Her pussy — clenching around my tail — sprayed. The fluid hit Vespera’s thigh, the circle, the mother’s own stomach.

I fucked harder. The circle — glowing, the light intensifying with each thrust, each orgasm, each drop of energy exchanged — was reaching its peak. The mana — flowing between us, through us, around us — was building. Concentrating. The reunic inscription — the ancient symbols — rotated faster. The glow — golden, then white, then blinding — covered us.

”More,” I said. The word was a command. A decree. The voice of a god directing a ceremony.

I slammed into Vespera’s anal. Deep. All ten inches. Her body — impaled, her face in her mother’s chest, her ass in the air — seized. Her anal clamped. Her pussy — empty, responsive — squirted. The fluid — clear, hot — sprayed across her mother’s body. Across the mother’s pussy, her stomach, her breasts.

The mother — drenched in her daughter’s fluids — screamed. Her own orgasm — triggered by the contact, by the warmth, by the overwhelming cascade of sensory input — hit. Her body convulsed. Her pussy — clenching around my tail — sprayed again. The fluids mixed. Mother’s and daughter’s. On the magic circle. On each other. On me.

I pulled out of Vespera’s anal. Slammed into her pussy. The switch — sudden, the angle different — drove her over the edge. She screamed. Her body — impaled on my cock, her face in her mother’s tits, her pussy clenching — convulsed. The orgasm — massive, the kind that shut down higher brain function — hit.

The mana surged. The circle — at maximum intensity, the light blinding — pulsed. The energy — flowing between all three of us, through every point of contact — peaked. The transfer was happening. The mana — my mana, infinite, the incubus energy that had no ceiling — poured into them. Through my cock. Through my tail. Through the milk. Through the sweat. Through the air itself.

Their bodies glowed. Vespera — her mana reserves, already vast, expanding. The mother — her latent potential, awakened by the wife package, surging. The two women — connected, body to body, mouth to breast, pussy to tail to cock — became conduits. Channels for the energy. The mana flowed through them, between them, into them. Their levels — rising, climbing, the numbers visible in my system interface — surged.

Sixty percent. Seventy. Eighty.

I fucked harder. The pace was inhuman — my hips slamming forward, the impacts rapid, the sound filling the room. The wet slap of flesh on flesh. The moans. The screams. The muffled, choking, gasping sounds of two women being pushed past every boundary they’d known.

Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

”AAANGH—!! — HAAANGH—!! — OUNGH—!! — HIEEENGH—!! — AH—!! — I can’t — HAA — I can’t — AAANGH—!!”

The mother — beneath, her body shaking, her eyes rolled back, her mouth open in a silent scream — squirted. The final orgasm — the one that broke her, that emptied her, that left her blank and twitching — hit. Her body went limp. Her pussy — clenching one last time around my tail — released. The fluid — thin, clear — sprayed in a final arc.

I slammed into Vespera. One last thrust. All ten inches. Her anal — stretched, loose, accepting — took me completely. My balls — heavy, tight, the cum pressurized — slapped against her pussy. The impact was the trigger.

I came.

The first rope — thick, hot, massive — pumped into her anal. She screamed. The second rope. The third. Each one filling her, the heat spreading through her core. Her body convulsed. Her anal clamped. The walls — already tight, already gripping — milked me. The cum — pumping, flowing, filling — backed up. Leaked from her anal. Ran down her thighs. Onto her mother.

The glow — the blinding, white-hot glow of the magic circle — intensified. The light — pure mana, the energy of the reunic inscription at its peak — enveloped them. Covered them. Consumed them.

Both women lost consciousness. The moans — the continuous, overlapping, blending sounds of two women being fucked beyond endurance — peaked. Reached a crescendo. And then — silence. Their bodies went limp. Their eyes closed. Their breathing — slow, even — was the breathing of deep, unconscious sleep.

I held Vespera. My cock — still inside her, still twitching, still pumping — throbbed. The last ropes of cum — weaker now, the tank emptying — filled her. The warmth spread. Her body — unconscious, pliable — accepted everything.

The glow faded. The circle — its energy spent, the mana transferred — dimmed. The symbols stopped rotating. The light — golden, then amber, then nothing — disappeared.

I looked up. At the ceiling. The white plaster, the faint crack from the corner, the ordinary, unremarkable ceiling of an ordinary bedroom.

I smiled. My cock — still hard, still inside Vespera’s unconscious body — pulsed. The incubus hunger — insatiable, eternal, the engine that drove everything — was already stirring again.

And then — I said it out loud.

Ignoring both women lying on the circle, her body covered in fluids, her eyes half-open, her voice a hoarse, broken whisper.

”Ah. Fuck”

Vespera swallowed. Coughed. Her hand — trembling — went to her face.

”First day in the capital.”

Her mother swallowed. Her eyes — dazed, unfocused, but somehow amused — found mine.

”That was just —”

I paused. Breathed. The word came out on the exhale, the whisper of a man who had fucked many in the past to the point of coherence but was still, somehow, capable of assessment.

”Hell of a lot of fun.”

I laughed. The sound echoed through the room, through the mansion, through the quiet evening air of the capital.

”What a feast.”