parentshiftbook Chapter 756 - 755- She Milks his Balls Dry
Chapter 756 - 755- She Milks his Balls Dry
The gasp, which was involuntary, was the ’what-the-fuck’ gasp. The ’I-came-that-fast’ realization that was also the ’what-did-she-do’ question. The suppression, the void’s suppression, was gone. The lust, the incubus lust that had been temporarily extinguished, returned. Not gradually. All at once. Like a dam breaking. The flood, the full force of his divine hunger, hit him.He had cum in seconds. The ’I-just-came-in-seconds’ reality that was also the ’what-the-hell’ shock. The stamina, the supernatural stamina that had allowed him to fuck for hours, had failed. The void, the inheritance, the second horn, all had taken something. The recovery, which should have been instant, was not.
The mermaid, however, did not stop. Her mouth, which was full of his cum, did not release his cock. The suction, which had been strong, continued. The tongue, which had been working, kept going. The cum, which had filled her mouth, was swallowed. The gulp, audible and deliberate, was the ’I-am-drinking-every-drop’ swallow. The throat, which contracted around the load, worked. The fluid, thick and hot, went down.
She licked. The cum, which had remained on his shaft, was cleaned. The tongue, broad and thorough, traced every vein. Every ridge. The ’I-am-not-wasting-anything’ dedication that was also the ’this-is-mine’ claim.
His cock, which had been ejaculating, tried to soften. The ’post-orgasm’ softening that was natural. But her mouth, which was still on him, did not allow it. The suction, the gentle and persistent suction, kept the blood flowing. The ’I-will-keep-him-hard’ determination that was also the ’I-am-not-done’ statement.
She lifted. Her mouth, releasing his cock with a pop, left the shaft wet. Her tail, which had been beneath his head, moved. The appendage, the powerful and scaled limb, shifted. The scales, which covered her lower half, parted. The pussy, the flat and tight entrance that he had fucked earlier, was revealed.
"You can also suck it if you want," she said. Her voice, which was low and warm, carried the melodic resonance. The ’I-am-offering’ offer that was also the ’husband’ title.
"Husband." The word, which she added as an afterthought, was not an afterthought. It was the core. The ’you-are-my-husband’ declaration that was also the ’I-have-recognized-you’ certainty.
He looked at her face. The golden eyes, wet with tears. The expression, tender and desperate and hungry. The ’I-need-you’ expression that was also the ’I-have-waited’ patience.
He sighed. The ’what-the-hell’ sigh that was also the ’fine’ acceptance.
He licked. His tongue, which found her pussy, tasted. The flavor, the ’mermaid-pussy’ flavor that was sweet and salty and unlike anything else, hit his tongue. The lips, thin and pale blue, parted. The entrance, tight and small, yielded to his tongue.
He hugged her hips. His arms, which wrapped around her wide and scaled hips, held. The grip, firm and claiming, was the ’I-am-going-to-eat-you’ grip that was also the ’you-are-mine’ possession.
She moaned. The sound, which was muffled by his cock, vibrated. The vibration, transmitted through his shaft, traveled to his balls. The ’she-is-moaning-on-my-cock’ vibration that was also the ’she-likes-it’ confirmation.
His tongue found her clit. The nub, which had been hidden beneath the thin lips, was exposed. The contact, the ’his-tongue-on-my-clit’ contact, made her body jerk. The ’what-is-that’ jerk that was also the ’more’ plea.
He played. The tongue, which was broad and skilled, worked. The clit, which was small and sensitive, was circled. Licked. Sucked. The combination, the ’I-know-what-I-am-doing’ combination, was overwhelming. Her body, which had been still, moved. Her hips, which he was holding, ground against his face. The ’I-need-more’ grinding that was also the ’do-not-stop’ command.
Her mouth, which had been on his cock, resumed. The bobbing, the up-and-down motion of her head, started. The rhythm, which matched his tongue’s pace, was synchronized. The ’we-are-doing-this-together’ rhythm that was also the ’we-are-one’ connection.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
The sounds, the wet and obscene sounds of mouth on cock and tongue on pussy, filled the forest clearing. The birds, which had been singing, were silent. The wind, which had been blowing, was still. The world, the natural world, was listening.
She came. The orgasm, which was sudden and intense, ripped through her. The fluid, the thin and sweet fluid that was her ejaculation, squirted from her pussy. Onto his face. Into his mouth. The taste, the ’she-came-on-my-tongue’ taste, was intoxicating. Her body, which had been jerking, convulsed. Her legs, which had been spread, clamped. Around his head. The ’I-am-trapping-him’ clamp that was also the ’do-not-stop’ plea.
"AAAAHH—!! Hah—!! Ah—!!"
The moans, which were loud and musical, echoed through the trees. The resonance, the natural resonance of her mermaid voice, made the leaves tremble. The orgasm, which was still going, peaked. Her body, rigid, was a bowstring. Then it released. She went limp. Her mouth, which had been on his cock, released. Her body, which had been arched, collapsed.
He pulled out. His cock, which was hard again, was free. The shaft, wet with her saliva, glistened. He directed. Not at her mouth. At her pussy. The head, the dark crown, was at her entrance. The entrance, still twitching from her orgasm, was wet.
She gasped. The ’he-is-going-to-fuck-me’ gasp that was also the ’finally’ anticipation.
She widened. Her hands, which had been at her sides, spread. Her legs, which had been clamped, opened. Her tail, which had been covering, parted fully. The pussy, the flat and tight pussy, was presented. The ’I-am-ready’ presentation that was also the ’please’ plea.
"Please fuck me," she said. Her voice, which was breathless, carried the melodic resonance. The ’I-need-you’ resonance that was also the ’I-want-to-feel-you’ desire. "I want to feel you, husband."
He sighed. The ’fine’ sigh that was also the ’you-are-insatiable’ observation. "Shit," he said. The word, which was not a curse but a response, was the ’what-have-I-gotten-myself-into’ acknowledgment.
He laid. On top of her. His body, the muscular and warm body, covered hers. His cock, which was at her entrance, pushed. The head, the broad crown, entered. The lips, thin and tight, yielded. The walls, the ridged and silken walls, gripped.
He fucked her. In missionary. The position, which was the most basic and the most intimate, was the position her husband had used. The ’I-am-making-love-to-you’ position that was also the ’I-am-claiming-you’ statement.
Pah. Pah. Pah.
The rhythm, which was slow and deep, was not the brutal pace he had used on the dwarven maid or the five women. This was different. The ’I-am-feeling-you’ pace that was also the ’you-are-different’ acknowledgment.
"Ah—♡ ah—♡ ah—♡" Her moans, soft and continuous, were musical. The resonance, the mermaid resonance, made them sound like singing. The ’I-am-being-fucked-and-it-feels-like-music’ reality that was also the ’he-is-inside-me’ confirmation.
"Shit," he said. The word, which was strained, was the ’this-pussy-is-incredible’ strain. "What kind of pussy is this?"
The walls, the mermaid walls, were doing something. The ridges, the tiny sensory ridges that lined her canal, were moving. Not passively. Actively. The ’her-pussy-is-milking-me’ realization that was also the ’I-have-never-felt-anything-like-this’ admission. The ridges, which were massaging his shaft, were synchronized with his thrusts. On the pull-out, they gripped. On the push-in, they yielded. The effect was the ’she-is-milking-me-without-moving’ effect that was driving him crazy.
She tightened. The walls, which had been massaging, clenched. The ’I-am-answering-your-question’ clench that was also the ’it-is-yours’ declaration.
"It’s yours," she said. Her voice, which was soft and melodic, was perverted. The ’my-pussy-is-yours’ declaration that was also the ’use-it-however-you-want’ invitation. The language, which was crude and direct and intimate, was the ’I-am-your-wife’ language that was also the ’I-will-say-anything-you-want’ devotion.
He trembled. The ’she-is-using-perverted-language’ realization that was also the ’and-I-like-it’ admission. The combination, the ’her-pussy-is-milking-me-and-her-words-are-destroying-me’ combination, was too much.
He came.