I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

“Ahhhhh ~ ” Aryl whimpered, her hips moving without thought, grinding faintly into his thigh. The friction was magnetic, the pressure between her legs growing unbearable.

Behind her, Vigg let out a shaky breath—one she knew was filled with agony.

She didn’t look at him.

She couldn’t. Because she was already kneeling.

She lowered slowly, her hand still wrapped around Julian’s shaft as she dropped to her knees before him. Her eyes stayed locked on the bulge, her mouth parting in anticipation for what was to come.

Julian watched her with pure, burning hunger. “You want it?” he asked, voice thick. “Then take it.”

Her fingers reached for his waistband, eyes wide and glassy with lust. She tucked it down, and when she freed him, she visually gasped.

Beside them, Shayla also let out a surprised gasp—her eyes widening as Aryl pulled Julian’s cock free. It stood proud in her daughter’s trembling grip, thick and hard, already glistening at the tip.

Shayla blinked, momentarily dazed, before a sultry smile curved her lips.

“My, my… your grace,” she murmured, voice thick with awe and something darker. “You’re… big.”

Meanwhile, Aryl remained frozen, her mouth parted as she stared in raw hunger. She felt her mother’s breath at her side now, warm and trembling.

Shayla leaned closer, almost unconsciously, her gaze dropping to where her daughter’s fingers wrapped around that thick length.

“I didn’t realize you’d be taking all of him, Aryl,” she whispered, half to herself, half to Aryl. “Are you sure your little mouth can even handle it?”

Julian chuckled low, both amused and excited. “Oh, she’ll handle it,” he said darkly, his hand stroking Aryl’s hair now, gently guiding her forward. “Won’t you, Aryl?”

“Mhnn~” Aryl whimpered. Her pussy watered at their voices, wetness already dripping between her thighs. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips as her eyes flicked up—first at Julian, then briefly, shamefully, at her mother.

Shayla was watching.

And it only made her hotter.

Slowly, Aryl gathered her courage and leaned forward. Her lips brushed the tip of Julian’s cock—soft at first, a hesitant kiss—before she opened her mouth and slid it in, inch by inch.

Shayla exhaled sharply, her hand flying to her lips.

“Oh gods…”

Aryl’s mouth stretched wide, her tongue swirling around the swollen head as she took him in. Her hand stroked the base, steady, while her mother watched in stunned silence.

“Yes…. so good,” Julian groaned, his head falling back in pleasure. His one hand tangled in Aryl’s hair while the other reached lazily for Shayla’s thigh. “You raised her well, Lady Shayla,” he said with a wicked grin. “She’s perfect.”

Shayla shuddered—her thighs rubbing together.

And Vigg? His eyes was wide with horror as his sister moaned around another man’s cock.

Aryl’s cheeks hollowed, her breath hitching as she bobbed her head up and down. Julian’s groan filled the chamber, echoing through out the room in satisfaction.

Shayla’s hand moved without thought, sliding down Aryl’s back, making her shiver.

“Good girl,” Julian praised, voice thick with lust. “Show me how much you want it.”

“Mhmm….Hnnn…” Aryl moaned around him, spit pooling at the corners of her mouth. Her tongue moved eagerly, tasting every inch. Her throat clenched involuntarily as he slid deeper, stretching her in the most delicious way.

“Such a filthy little daughter,” Shayla murmured, voice rough with arousal. “You’ve always had the taste for this.”

Julian shifted, pressing his hips forward, forcing his cock further in her mouth. The heat, the wetness, and the tightness of her mouth around him made him shudder. It was overwhelming.

Aryl felt the burn of pleasure coiling low in her belly, the raw power of Julian pushing her limits. Her hand squeezed harder while her lips slid over the veiny shaft, teasing the sensitive tip with every flick and suck.

Shayla’s other hand traced slow circles along Aryl’s trembling thighs, dipping beneath the thin fabric of her gown to brush over her soaking folds.

“You want this too, don’t you?” she whispered.

Aryl’s eyes fluttered open briefly, meeting Shayla’s gaze. But before she could answer, Julian’s voice rang out again.

“Lady Shayla,” he purred, “forget about that.”

He let the words hang in the air, heavy and teasing. Then, with a sly flick of his gaze, he added, “I could use an extra mouth.”

Shayla’s breath hitched, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. The challenge—and the invitation—it was impossible to resist.

She swallowed hard, stepping closer to the pair. Her fingers tangled in Aryl’s hair for a moment, and without hesitation, she knelt beside her daughter. Parting her lips open, she lowered her head toward Julian’s cock, her tongue flicking out to meet the same thick shaft her daughter was already worshipping.

Both their tongues slid over Julian’s cock, the shared touch sending a jolt of pleasure between them.

Julian’s eyes fluttered shut, completely dazed and lost. “Just like that…” he groaned. “Fuck, yes…”

Aryl moaned as Shayla’s cheek brushed hers, both of them working together now—one at the base, the other teasing the tip. Their mouths moved in sync—taking turns, sharing the length. Saliva coated Julian from every angle, and now it was dripping lewdly from their chins.

He groaned again, his fingers buried in both of their hair. “Two mouths,” he muttered. “Fuck…”

Shayla pulled back just enough to let Aryl take him in deeper. Aryl’s mouth parted wide, letting all of him in. She choked slightly but didn’t stop. The discomfort was long too forgotten, replaced by an unbearable heat.

Julian looked down at them—both mother and daughter kneeling, drooling over his cock, both lost to lust.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Such obedient whores… sharing your master.”

Aryl moaned in response while Shayla shivered.

And in the corner of the room, Vigg sat motionless, a storm behind his eyes.

He watched—forced to witness—as the two women he loved most in the world knelt together, mouths open, lips smeared with spit and cum as they fought to pleasure the very man who had broken him.

From the head of the chamber, the Marquis watched with a twisted smile playing on his lips. His fingers circled around the glass of his wine, his own body responding to the sight before him.

His eyes lingered.

On Shayla’s lips, slick with spit. On Aryl’s face, flushed and smeared with cum.

“Your Grace…” he said in amusement. “Calling them whores… isn’t that a bit too far?”

He sipped the wine slowly.

“After all…” he added, “they are my wife and daughter.”

Julian chuckled, then without a word, he fisted both Shayla’s and Aryl’s hair and pulled—not too rough, but firm enough to make them gasp.