Jessica stepped forward, her hips swaying with that confident, playful stride of hers, her eyes scanning the new faces—Polina, Alisa, Irene, Diana, and Katerina—with a smirk that spoke volumes.
"Husband," she purred, her voice dripping with amusement, "you found so many new sisters while you were away?" Her fingers tapped her chin as she pretended to count, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Eight more? Impressive."
Polina's eyes widened like saucers, her gaze darting between Jessica, the other women, and me, her face flushing a deep crimson. "N-No, it's not—!" she stammered, her hands clenching at her sides as she took an involuntary step back, bumping into Alisa, who looked just as stunned.
Irene crossed her arms, her expression unreadable, but the way her fingers dug into her own skin betrayed her nerves.
Diana and Katerina exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with disbelief, as if they'd just walked into a room full of predators and realized they were the prey.
Natalya let out a soft, exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she stepped forward, her voice dry but carrying that familiar authority.
"Sisters," she said, her tone amused but firm, "they're my bodyguards... for now." The unspoken implication lingered in the air, her smirk hinting at the possibility that one day, that "for now" might change.
"Though I suppose if any of you want to convince them otherwise..." She shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "I wouldn't stop you."
The room erupted into laughter, the tension shattering like glass. Julie grinned, leaning into me as she whispered, "Oh, bodyguards, huh?" Her fingers traced idle circles on my chest, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "How convenient that they're all so pretty."
Freya chuckled, pushing off the doorframe with a sly smile, her gaze flicking over the newcomers with open curiosity. "Eight new faces?" she murmured, her voice husky. "Husband, you do like to keep things interesting."
Haruna crossed her arms, her expression unreadable, but the way her lips twitched betrayed her amusement. "Bodyguards, huh?" she said, her tone dry. "I wonder how long that'll last."
Hannah blushed, her fingers twisting together as she glanced at the others, her voice soft but curious. "They seem... nice."
Isabella smiled, her gaze warm as she stepped forward, her voice gentle. "Welcome," she said, her eyes flicking between them. "Though I think you'll find we're all quite... close here."
The newcomers shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between us, their postures rigid. Polina cleared her throat, her voice strained but polite. "Uh. Thank you, ma'am," she said, her gaze flicking to Natalya, as if searching for guidance.
The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Polina and the other bodyguards—Alisa, Irene, Diana, and Katerina—stood stiffly, their postures rigid, their eyes darting between the chaos of my women and the sheer overwhelm of the situation. Their faces were a mix of discomfort, confusion, and something bordering on panic. It was clear they weren't used to this—so many women, so much energy, so much us.
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair as I glanced at them. "Stella," I called, my voice calm but firm, "take them to their rooms. Let them rest."
Stella, ever the graceful one, nodded without hesitation, her voice soft and soothing as she stepped forward. "Of course," she murmured, her gaze warm as she turned to the bodyguards.
"Right this way, ladies. You must be exhausted after the trip." She gestured toward the hallway, her presence instantly easing some of the tension in their shoulders.
Polina hesitated for just a moment, her eyes flicking to Natalya as if seeking permission. Natalya gave her a small, reassuring nod, her expression softening just slightly. "Go on," she murmured, "get some rest."
With that, the bodyguards followed Stella, their postures relaxing just enough as they disappeared down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps fading into silence.
Once they were gone, the room seemed to exhale. The energy shifted, the tension easing as my women exchanged glances, some amused, some relieved.
Julie leaned into me, her voice playful. "Good call, husband," she murmured, "they looked like they were two seconds away from bolting."
Freya chuckled, crossing her arms as she watched the hallway where they'd disappeared. "Can't blame them," she said, her tone dry, "we are a lot."
Haruna smirked, shaking her head. "They'll get used to it," she murmured, "or they won't." Her gaze flicked to Natalya, who was watching the hallway with a thoughtful expression. "Either way, it's fun to watch."
Natalya let out a soft sigh, turning back to us, her voice amused but firm. "They're good at their jobs," she said, "but they're not used to... this." She gestured vaguely to the room, to all of us, to the sheer chaos that was our dynamic—the laughter, the teasing, the unapologetic desire that thrummed between us like a live wire.
Margaret suddenly moved.
"Master..." she whimpered, her voice raw, desperate, "I can't take it anymore..." Her hands grabbed at my shirt, yanking it open, buttons popping as she pulled it off me.
"My pussy—it's itching so bad..." Her lips crashed onto mine before I could react, her tongue forcing its way into my mouth, hungry, demanding.
Margaret tore off her clothes with frantic desperation, her body glistening under the soft lights of the villa, her breasts bouncing free as she straddled me. But it wasn't just her nakedness that caught everyone's attention—
It was her nipples.
Inverted.
Deep, dark, puckered little craters in her perfect tits, something none of us had seen before. Natalya's eyes widened, her fingers freezing mid-motion as she stared, her voice dropping to a shocked whisper. "What the fuck—?"
Yelena let out a low, impressed whistle, her fingers already reaching out before she could stop herself. "Holy shit," she murmured, her thumb brushing over one of Margaret's nipples,
"I've never seen nipples like this before." She pinched it gently, and the inverted bud popped out slightly, hardening under her touch. "Fuck, look at that—!" she breathes, her other hand joining in, rolling the nipple between her fingers, pulling it out further.
"Oh my God," Claire gasped, leaning in, her fingers joining Yelena's. "They're so weird..." she murmured, her thumb pressing against the other nipple, forcing it to protrude before pinching it hard. "But so fucking hot."
"Ah—!" Margaret whimpered, her back arching as their fingers played with her nipples, her pussy clenching around my cock as she ground down on me. "M-Master—!" she moaned, her voice breathy, "they're touching me—!"
"And you love it, slut," Yelena purred, her fingers tightening on Margaret's nipple, twisting it just enough to make her gasp. "Look at you, riding his cock while we play with your freaky little tits."
Natalya bit her lip, her fingers joining theirs, pinching Margaret's other nipple hard, pulling it out further. "Fuck, they're so sensitive," she murmured, her voice husky, "look how hard they get."
"Mmm—!" Margaret cried, her hips bucking as she rode me harder, her pussy gushing around my cock. "I-I can't—!"
"Oh, you can," Claire murmured, her free hand sliding down Margaret's back, her fingers trailing between her ass cheeks. "And you will." Without warning, she pressed a finger against Margaret's tight asshole, circling it slowly before pushing in just the tip.
"FUCK—!!" Margaret screamed, her body jerking as Claire's finger breached her, her pussy clenching tighter around my cock. "Ah—! Ah—!"
"That's it, bitch," Yelena growled, her hand coming down hard on Margaret's ass with a sharp SMACK! The sound echoed through the room, the red handprint blooming on her skin as Margaret yelped, her pussy milking me harder.
"You love this, don't you?" Yelena taunted, her hand raising again before bringing it down even harder—SMACK! "Getting fingered in the ass while you ride his cock."
Another slap—SMACK! "Getting your weird little nipples played with."
SMACK! "Being our fucking slut."
"Y-Yes—!" Margaret sobbed, her body trembling, her pussy dripping as she fucked me desperately, her ass jiggling with every spank. "I love it! I love being your slut—!"
Natalya chuckled, her fingers twisting Margaret's nipple harder, pulling it out until it stayed erect, swollen, and red. "Good girl," she purred, her voice dark with approval. "Now cum for us, Margaret."
Claire's finger pushed deeper into Margaret's ass, fucking her in slow, deliberate strokes as her other hand slapped her ass again—SMACK! "Cum on his cock, whore," she growled, "show us how good it feels."
"I-I can't—!" Margaret whimpered, but her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching tighter, her orgasm building as she rode me harder, faster, her breasts bouncing, her nipples throbbing under their fingers.
"You will," I snarled, my hands gripping her hips, slamming her down onto my cock as I fucked up into her, my balls slapping against her ass. "Now fucking cum, Margaret—!!"
And she did.
With a scream that shattered the air, her pussy milked me violently, her juices gushing around my cock as her orgasm crested, her body shaking, her ass clenching around Claire's finger.
"AH—!! AH—!!" she cried, her nipples throbbing, her breasts heaving as she collapsed against me, her pussy pulsing around my cock, milking every drop of my cum as I followed her over, filling her womb with hot, thick ropes.
Jasmine stepped forward, her eyes burning with wicked delight as she drank in the sight of Margaret riding me, her ass jiggling with every desperate thrust, her swollen nipples aching under Natalya and Claire's teasing fingers. A slow, mocking smirk curled Jasmine's lips as she trailed a finger down Margaret's spine, tracing the curve of her ass.
"Look at you, Margaret," Jasmine purred, her voice dripping with scorn, "so fucking desperate for cock you forgot how to beg like a good little slut."
Margaret whimpered, her body trembling as she slammed herself down harder, her soaked pussy clenching around my cock. "M-Master—!" she gasped, her voice thick with need, "I couldn't wait—I needed it so fucking bad—!"
"Oh, you needed it?" Jasmine chuckled darkly, pressing the tip of her finger against Margaret's tight asshole, circling it with slow, teasing pressure. "Well, baby..." Her finger pushed in just enough to breach her, "if you needed it that fucking bad..." she murmured, her voice dripping with sadistic amusement, "then you can take a little more."
"Nnngh—! F-Fuck—!" Margaret screamed, her back arching as Jasmine's finger sank deeper, her ass clenching around the intrusion. "It's too much—! I can't—!"
"Too much?" Jasmine laughed, her free hand cracking down hard on Margaret's ass—SMACK!—the sharp sound echoing through the room, the red handprint blooming on her skin.
"You think this is too much?" Another slap—SMACK!—"When you just impaled yourself on his cock like a starving fucking whore?" SMACK! "When you couldn't even wait for a bed like a proper slut?" SMACK!
"I-I needed it—!" Margaret sobbed, her pussy gushing around my cock, her ass clenching around Jasmine's finger as she tried to ride the overwhelming pleasure-pain.
"Oh, you needed it," Jasmine mocked, her finger fucking Margaret's ass in deep, relentless strokes, her other hand slapping her ass again—SMACK!—"Well, baby," she growled, her voice thick with lust, "now you're gonna take all of it."
"P-Please—!" Margaret whimpered, her body shaking, her pussy milking my cock as she rode me harder, desperate for release.
"Please, what?" Jasmine taunted, her finger pushing deeper into Margaret's ass, stretching her tight hole. "Please fuck your ass harder?" SMACK! "Please spank you like the dirty little cumslut you are?" SMACK! "Please make you cum so hard you forget your own fucking name?" SMACK!
"Y-Yes—! Fuck, yes—!" Margaret cried, her voice breaking as Jasmine's finger hit that spot inside her ass, her orgasm building, her pussy clenching tighter around me. "I want it—I need it—! Fuck, I'm gonna cum—!"
"Then fucking take it, whore," Jasmine snarled, her hand slapping Margaret's ass again—SMACK!—"Cum on his cock while I finger-fuck your tight little asshole." Her finger pumped faster, deeper, her other hand raising again—SMACK!—"Show us how good it feels to be used like the filthy slut you are."
"Ahhh—!! FUCK—!!" Margaret screamed, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her, her pussy milking my cock violently, her ass clenching around Jasmine's finger. "I'M COMING—!! I'M FUCKING COMING—!!"
"Good girl," Jasmine purred, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction as she fucked Margaret's ass through her orgasm, her hand cracking down one last time—SMACK!—"Now let's see if you can take another round."
With a sudden, rough tug, Jasmine yanked Margaret up, forcing her dripping pussy to slide off my cock with a wet, obscene pop.
Margaret gasped, her legs trembling, but Jasmine didn't give her a second to recover. She spun her around, shoving her forward so Margaret was straddling me again—this time facing the others, her ass on full display, her hips already pushing back toward me, hungry and desperate.
"You want more, don't you, slut?" Jasmine growled, her fingers digging into Margaret's hips as she lined my throbbing cock up against Margaret's tight, untouched asshole. "You want to feel him here now?"
"N-No—! It's too big! I can't—!" Margaret whimpered, but her body betrayed her, her hips rocking back, her asshole twitching with need.
"You can," Jasmine hissed, her voice a dark command. "And you will."
With one brutal, relentless thrust, she rammed my cock into Margaret's asshole, stretching her open with a raw, animalistic groan. "FUCK—!!" Margaret screamed, her nails digging into my chest, her body shaking as she was impaled, her ass burning around my thickness.
"Ohhh, fuck—!" Jasmine moaned, watching as Margaret's ass swallowed every inch, her hips already rolling, forcing her to take it deeper. "Look at you—such a good little anal slut for us."
"It's too much—! I can't—! Ahhh—!!" Margaret sobbed, but her body moved on its own, her ass clenching, her hips grinding back, her moans turning needy, broken. "F-Fuck, it hurts—! But it feels so good!"
"That's it," Jasmine groaned, her fingers gripping Margaret's hips harder, slamming her down onto my cock again and again. "Take it, you filthy whore. Take every inch."
"Nnngh—!! FUCK—!!" Margaret shrieked, her body trembling, her ass stretching obscenely around me as she was fucked raw, her orgasm already building again, her voice nothing but desperate, broken screams. "Aaaaaah, I'm gonna cum—! Hmm... Ngggh aaaaah... I'm gonna cum—!!"
"Do it," Jasmine commanded, her voice a dark snarl. "Cum on his cock like the dirty, used-up slut you are."
Margaret's scream ripped through the room like a blade, her body convulsing as her pussy exploded—squirting hard, a torrent of fluid drenching Jasmine's face, Natalya's tits, and Claire's open mouth as she lapped up the mess like a starving bitch. "Fuck! Ahhh! I'm coming!"
Margaret howled, her body collapsing onto my chest, her ass still stretched obscenely around my cock before I yanked free. Her gaping, ruined hole twitched, clinging to the shape of my thickness, her juices and my pre-cum dripping down her thighs in thick, shameful ropes.
The women erupted—laughing, jeering, fingers pointing as Margaret whimpered, her body wrecked, her ass pulsing from the brutal fucking.
"Look at her," Natalya sneered, dragging a finger through the mess on her chest before shoving it into Margaret's sloppy, used pussy, making her jolt. "Such a worthless cumdump—can't even keep a cock in her ass without flooding the room like a broken toy."
"Pathetic," Claire giggled, her fingers circling Margaret's gaping hole, stretching it wider just to watch her whine. "Bet she'd let anyone fuck this loose little slit now."
Then— The air shifted.
A heavy, deliberate presence filled the room as Freya stepped forward, her massive, pregnant belly leading the way, swollen with pride, her hips swaying like a queen surveying her kingdom. The silence that followed was thick, charged—every pair of eyes locked onto her, jealousy and lust burning in their gazes.
Freya's puffy, pregnant pussy was on full display, her lips swollen, glistening, parted from the weight of her belly. The scent of her fertile cunt filled the air—musky, intoxicating, the proof of what she carried inside her.
She dragged her fingers through her soaking folds, spreading herself open just enough to let them see—the dark pink of her stretched entrance, the cream of her arousal dripping down her thighs.
"Fuck..." Jasmine hissed, her fingers digging into her own pussy, jealousy twisting her features. "Look at her... fucking look at her. That belly... that cunt..."
Freya smirked, her hand sliding up her round stomach, possessive, dominant. "Mmm... do you like what you see?" she purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she stepped closer, her thighs pressing against mine. "Do you wish you were the one carrying his seed?"
"I—I do—!" Julie whined, crawling forward, her hands clutching at Freya's ankles, her face twisted in desperation. " Let me have it! Let me feel him breed me as he did you—!"
"Pathetic," Freya chuckled, kicking Julie's hand away before dropping to her knees in front of me, her belly pressing against my thighs as she wrapped her fingers around my throbbing cock, stroking it slowly.
"You think you deserve this?" she murmured, her tongue flicking over my slit, tasting the pre-cum and Margaret's ass juice still clinging to me. "You think you can take what I have?"
"Y-Yes—!" Julie sobbed, shoving her pussy against my leg, grinding, her juices smearing on my skin. "I need it! I need his cum inside me—!"
"Me too—!" Natalya gasped, fingers frantic between her legs, her other hand squeezing her tit, pinching her nipple until she whimpered. "Fuck, I want it—! I want him to fill me up—!"
Freya laughed, the sound dark, mocking, as she licked the length of my cock, her tongue swirling around the head before she pulled back, her lips shiny with spit. "You hear that?" she growled, glancing up at me, her eyes burning. "They're all begging for it. Begging for your cock... your cum... your fucking babies."
She spread her thighs wider, her pregnant pussy glistening, swollen, needy despite the weight of her belly. "But I'm the one who has you," she hissed, guiding my cock toward her entrance, teasing the tip against her soaking lips. "I'm the one who owns this. Who proved I can take it—who keeps it."
The moment I pushed inside, Freya's pregnant cunt clenched around me like a vice, her walls so tight and hot it was almost painful. "Ahhh—! Fuck—!" she moaned, her head tilting back, her belly bouncing as she rocked her hips, taking more. "You think you can be better?" she panted, riding me hard, her ass slapping against my thighs. "You think you can take what I do?!"
"PLEASE—!" Claire begged, crawling toward us, her tits swinging, her pussy dripping. "Freya, please—! Let me have him! Just once—! I'll do anything—!"
Freya grabbed Claire's hair, yanking her face against her belly, forcing her to kiss the roundness. "Kiss it," she ordered, her voice a whip-crack. "Kiss the belly that you'll never have."
"Mmm—! I will—!" Claire sobbed, her lips pressing against Freya's skin, tongue flicking out to taste the sweat, her hands clawing at her own pussy, desperate. "I'll be good—! I'll be better—!"
Freya laughed, dark, triumphant, as she slammed herself down onto my cock, taking me to the hilt. "AHHH—!! FUCK—!!" she screamed, her body shaking, her belly jiggling with the force of her movements. "You think you can be better?" she panted, riding me hard, her ass slapping against my thighs. "You think you can take what I do?!"
Her pregnant pussy was dripping, her juices coating my cock as she rode me, her walls milking me violently. "Fuck..." I groaned, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her down as I thrust up, burying myself deep, her pregnant cunt clenching around me like it was made for me.
"AHHH—!! YES—!!" Freya screamed, her nails digging into my shoulders, her body trembling as her orgasm crested. "I'm coming—! I'm coming on your cock—!!"
"ME TOO—!" Julie shrieked, her pussy gushing, her legs shaking as she collapsed, her fingers still buried inside herself.
"I need it—!" Natalya sobbed, crawling toward me, her pussy dripping, her face twisted in desperation. "Please—! Breed me! Knock me up—!"
Freya turned, her eyes burning into Natalya's, her voice a snarl. "Then prove you can take it." She reached out, grabbing Natalya's hair, yanking her forward. "Suck his cock clean. Taste me on him. And if you're good..." She smirked, dark, promising. "Maybe I'll let you have a turn."
"Y-Yes—! Anything!" Natalya whimpered, diving for my cock the second Freya pulled off, her tongue swirling around the head, licking up the mess of Freya's pregnant juices and my pre-cum, her moans vibrating against my shaft.
Freya watched, breathless, her hand sliding between her legs, fingering her own pussy as she watched Natalya worship my cock. "That's it," she purred, her voice thick with lust. "Show him how bad you want it."
"I do—!" Natalya gasped, her lips wrapping around me, taking me deep, her throat gagging as she bobbed, her hands squeezing her tits, pinching her nipples until she whimpered.
"Good girl," Freya moaned, her fingers working her clit, her other hand rubbing her belly. "Now let's see if you can take what you're begging for."
She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear again, her voice a dark whisper. "Fuck her raw," she ordered. "Fuck her until she's dripping with your cum. And if she's lucky..." Her tongue traced the shell of my ear, hot, wet. "Maybe you'll give her what she really wants."
The room was a writhing, desperate mess of flesh and need. Freya's pregnant body still glistened with sweat and cum, her belly heaving as she watched me turn my attention to the others. "Now... who's next?" she purred, her fingers lazily circling her clit, her swollen pussy lips still twitching from her orgasm.
Julie was the first to crawl forward, her tits dragging across the wet floor, her ass already red from Freya's earlier slaps. "Me, please—!" she whimpered, pressing her face against my thigh, her tongue flicking out to taste the mix of Freya's juices and my pre-cum. "I need you to fuck me hard. I need you to make me scream like Margaret."
I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up, bending her over the arm of the couch. Her ass was already flushed, but I brought my hand down—SMACK!—the sound echoing through the room. "You want it rough, slut?" I growled, watching her flesh jiggle, her pussy dripping onto the leather.
"Yes—! Fuck, yes—!" she sobbed, her fingers clawing at the couch as I spanked her again—SMACK! SMACK!—her ass turning a deep, burning red. "Please, fuck me! Breed me like you did Freya—!"
I didn't wait. I lined my cock up with her soaked entrance and slammed into her in one brutal thrust. "AAAAHHH—!!" Julie's scream was raw, her pussy clenching around me like a vice, her juices squirting instantly, spraying across Stella's face as she knelt nearby, her fingers buried in her own cunt.
"Fuck, that's hot," Stella moaned, her free hand reaching out to spread Julie's ass cheeks wider, watching my cock pistoning in and out. "Look at her take it. Look at that slut squirt for you."
I gripped Julie's hips and fucked her harder, my balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. "You like that, Julie?" I snarled, my hand coming down on her ass again—SMACK!—"You like being my little cumslut?"
"YESSS—!!" she wailed, her pussy gushing, her juices flying, hitting Emily's tits as she pressed her body against Julie's, grinding her own pussy against Julie's thigh. "I love it! I love being your whore—!"
I pulled out of Julie and kicked her to the side, her body collapsing in a trembling, orgasmic heap. Stella didn't wait for an invitation—she dropped to her hands and knees, her ass already in the air, her pussy dripping. "Fuck me next," she demanded, her voice thick with need. "I want you to stretch me open. I want to feel you in my ass."
I spat on my fingers and rubbed them against her tight hole, teasing her. "You sure you can take it, Stella?" I taunted, pressing the tip of my cock against her entrance.
"I can—! I will—!" she gasped, pushing back against me, her fingers frantic on her clit.
I didn't go easy. I gripped her hips and forced my cock into her ass, inch by inch, her body trembling as she took me. "FUCK—!!" she screamed, her ass clenching around me, her pussy squirting onto the floor. "It's too big—! It's too much—!"
"You'll take it," I growled, slapping her ass—SMACK!
—" or I'll find someone who will."
Her moans turned to desperate sobs as I fucked her ass hard, her tits swinging, her juices dripping down her thighs. Emily crawled underneath her, her tongue flicking out to lap at Stella's dripping pussy. "Mmm, you taste so good," Emily moaned, her fingers working her own cunt as she ate Stella out.
I pulled out of Stella's ass and grabbed Emily by the hair, dragging her toward me. "You want a turn, slut?" I asked, my cock glistening with Stella's juices.
"Yes—! Please!" Emily begged, her eyes wild with lust.
I pushed her onto her back and spread her legs, her pussy already soaked. But before I could fuck her, Suzy crawled over, positioning herself over Emily's face. "Let me taste her while you fuck her," Suzy purred, lowering her pussy onto Emily's mouth.
"Mmm—!!" Emily moaned, her tongue immediately flicking against Suzy's clit as I lined my cock up with her entrance.
I slammed into Emily, my cock burying itself deep as Suzy ground her pussy against Emily's face. "Fuck, that's it," Suzy gasped, her fingers digging into Emily's tits. "Lick my clit, you filthy slut. Make me come while he fucks you."
Emily's moans vibrated against Suzy's pussy, her own hips bucking as I pounded into her. "You like that, Emily?" I growled, my hand coming down on her tits—SMACK!—"You like being my fucktoy while Suzy rides your face?"
"YESSS—!!" Emily screamed, her pussy squirting, her juices spraying up to hit Suzy's ass.
Haruna was next, her dark eyes burning with need as she crawled toward me. "I want you to spank me until I can't sit," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Then I want you to fuck my throat."
I grabbed her and bent her over my lap, her ass already quivering in anticipation. I brought my hand down—SMACK!—"Count them," I ordered.
"One—!" she gasped, her pussy dripping onto my thigh.
SMACK!
"Two—!" she whimpered, her fingers digging into the couch.
I spanked her until her ass was a deep, burning red, her pussy squirting with every slap. Then I flipped her onto her back and shoved my cock into her mouth. "Suck it," I commanded, my hands tangling in her hair.
Hannah crawled over, straddling Haruna's face. "I want to ride her tongue while you fuck her throat," she moaned, lowering her pussy onto Haruna's mouth.
Haruna's moans were muffled as she licked Hannah's pussy, her throat gagging around my cock. "Fuck, that's it," Hannah gasped, grinding her pussy against Haruna's face. "You're such a good little slut, aren't you?"
Elizabeth was already on her knees, her ass in the air, her fingers spreading her cheeks. "I want you to fuck my ass," she begged, her voice shaking. "But first... let Jasmine get me ready."
Jasmine didn't need to be told twice. She crawled behind Elizabeth, her tongue flicking out to lick Elizabeth's tight hole. "Mmm, you taste so good," Jasmine moaned, spitting on Elizabeth's ass before spreading her cheeks wider.
"Fuck—!" Elizabeth gasped, her pussy dripping. "More—! Lick it deeper—!"
Jasmine's tongue pressed inside Elizabeth's ass, her fingers working Elizabeth's pussy as she ate her out. "You're going to take his cock so well," Jasmine purred, her voice muffled against Elizabeth's flesh.
I watched for a moment, my cock throbbing, before grabbing Sofia and pulling her onto my lap. "You're next," I growled, my fingers digging into her hips.
Sofia moaned, grinding her ass against my cock. "Please, fuck me," she begged, her pussy already soaked.
I flipped her onto her stomach and spread her legs, my cock pressing against her entrance. "You want it hard?" I asked, my hand coming down on her ass—SMACK!
"Yes—! Fuck, yes—!" she screamed, her pussy clenching around nothing.
I slammed into her, my cock burying itself deep as Jasmine crawled underneath us, her tongue flicking out to lick Sofia's clit. "Mmm, you're so wet," Jasmine moaned, her fingers working her own pussy as she ate Sofia out.
Sofia's screams filled the room, her pussy squirting, her juices dripping onto Jasmine's face. "I'm coming—! I'm coming—!" she sobbed, her body shaking as her orgasm wrecked her.
By the time I got to Marina, the room was a mess of squirt, cum, and desperate, trembling bodies. Marina was on her knees, her tits heaving, her pussy dripping. "Breed me," she begged, her voice raw. "I want your baby. I want you to fill me up."
I grabbed her and threw her onto the couch, her legs spreading wide. "You sure you can take it?" I growled, my cock pressing against her entrance.
"I can—! I will—!" she sobbed, her fingers digging into the couch.
I slammed into her, my cock burying itself deep as the other women crawled closer, their hands reaching out to touch her, to touch me, their pussies grinding against each other.
"Fuck her hard," Freya ordered, her voice dark with lust. "Make her yours."
I fucked Marina brutally, her pussy clenching around me, her screams mixing with the wet sounds of the other women fingering themselves. "I'm coming—!" she wailed, her pussy squirting, her juices flying as her orgasm hit her.
"Take it," I growled, my release exploding deep inside her, filling her pussy with my cum.
"I feel it—!" Marina sobbed, her body shaking, her pussy milking every drop. "I feel you breeding me—!"
The room erupted in screams, the women collapsing in a tangle of limbs, their pussies still twitching, their bodies wrecked. Freya watched, her hand sliding over her belly, her eyes burning with satisfaction.
"Good girls," she purred. "Now clean up the mess you made."
Margaret, Stella, and the others finished tidying the room. We all washed up, the warm water soothing away the day's fatigue. One by one, they retired to their beds, their breathing soon steady and deep. But sleep eluded me. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind restless.
Unable to shake the quiet, I finally gave up and slipped out of bed. The house was still, the only sound the distant hum of the night. I found myself in the living room, my thoughts drifting to Yuko. A pang of curiosity struck me, and I reached out to SERA.
"Yuko's been buried in her work," SERA's voice echoed softly in my mind. "Assassination missions, one after another. She's just finishing up another one now. She should be back at the villa soon."
An idea took root—I'd surprise her. Since her villa was just next door, I decided to teleport over. The familiar rush of energy enveloped me as I materialized in her living room. I didn't turn on the lights, choosing instead to sit quietly on the sofa, the darkness wrapping around me like a blanket.
Time stretched on. Forty minutes passed before the faintest creak of the door broke the silence. My pulse quickened as footsteps echoed softly across the floor. A shadowy figure entered, pausing almost immediately.
I could sense her tension, the way her body coiled like a spring. Her hand moved swiftly behind her back, no doubt reaching for the gun she always kept within arm's reach.
"Who... who's there?" Her voice was sharp, laced with caution, the words hanging in the air like a blade.
I kept my voice low and steady. "Sister Yuko... It's me, Jack."
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, with a sudden flick of her wrist, the room flooded with light. Yuko stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide as they locked onto mine. For a moment, she didn't move—just stared, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then, something inside her snapped.
She lunged forward, crossing the room in two swift strides. Before I could react, she was in my arms, her body crashing into mine with a force that nearly knocked me off balance. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, her fingers digging in as if she were afraid I'd vanish if she let go.
A sob tore from her throat, raw and unguarded. "You..." Her voice cracked, the word barely more than a whisper against my chest.
I held her tightly, feeling the way her body trembled—part relief, part something deeper, something she'd been holding back for too long. Her tears wet the fabric of my shirt, warm and heavy, as she pressed her face into my shoulder.
For what felt like an eternity, neither of us moved. The silence between us was heavy, charged with everything we weren't saying. Yuko's breath came in uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling against mine as she struggled to steady herself.
I could feel the heat of her tears through the fabric of my shirt, the way her fingers still clenched at my shoulders, as if she were afraid I might disappear if she let go.
The air around us was thick with the weight of the moment, the kind of quiet that only exists when two people who have been through too much finally find each other again.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Yuko pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes were red and swollen, her lashes dark and damp, clinging together in delicate spikes.
She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, a gesture that was equal parts frustration and embarrassment, as if she were angry at herself for letting her guard down.
"Don't overthink it," she said, her voice rough and unsteady, like gravel underfoot. She swallowed hard, her throat working as she tried to compose herself. "I just... I thought it might be an intruder. Or worse."
The guilt settled in my chest like a stone. I hadn't considered how my sudden appearance might unravel her, how the shock of seeing someone in the dark—someone she wasn't expecting—might dredge up old fears.
"I'm sorry, Sister Yuko," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just... I wanted to see you." The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she let out a shaky breath, her fingers finally loosening their grip on my shoulders. For a moment, she just looked at me, her expression a mix of relief and something else—something raw and exposed. I reached up, my thumb brushing gently against her cheek to wipe away the last of her tears. The skin beneath was warm, slightly flushed, and she leaned into the touch just a little, as if she couldn't help herself.
"How have you been, Sister Yuko?" I asked, my voice soft but sincere. "And Haruna? I've thought about you both every day."
Yuko's lips parted, as if she were about to say something, but then she hesitated. Her gaze flickered away for a second, as if she were searching for the right words—or maybe trying to decide how much to reveal. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, tinged with a sadness she couldn't quite hide.
"You've been gone so long, Jack." My name on her lips sent a jolt through me; she rarely used it. "Too long." She paused, her fingers absently tracing the fabric of my sleeve, as if she needed the contact to ground herself. "Haruna misses you. She asks about you all the time."
I felt my chest tighten. The weight of her words settled over me, a reminder of everything I'd left behind, everything I'd had to walk away from. "I know," I said, my voice thick. "I wish I could explain it to her. To you."
Yuko's expression softened, but there was still a shadow in her eyes, a lingering ache that hadn't quite faded. "She's out with Hannah and Aunt Julie tonight," she continued, her voice steadier now, as if talking about Haruna gave her something to hold onto.
"Aunt Julie took them to meet some friends. Said they were having a little party." A faint, tired smile touched her lips. "Haruna was excited. She's been looking forward to it all week. But she'd drop everything if she knew you were here."
She fell silent again, and in that quiet, I could see the unspoken question hanging between us: Why now? Why did you come back? But neither of us voiced it. Instead, Yuko's hand found mine, her fingers intertwining with my own, her grip firm but gentle. "You should see her," she said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. "She'd want to know you're back."
I let out a quiet breath, my voice softening as I tried to explain. "I just wanted to give Haruna a surprise," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the weight of the moment. "I only got back from my trip a little while ago. I didn't even stop to unpack—I came straight here."
Yuko nodded slowly, her fingers still lightly curled around mine, as if she were afraid to let go—like she was holding onto something precious, something she thought she might lose again. For a moment, I let myself believe that this fragile connection could last, that the warmth of her hand in mine was enough to bridge the distance between us.
But then, almost imperceptibly, her grip loosened. Her fingers slid away from mine, one by one, until her hand fell to her side. The loss of her touch was sudden, like a breath held too long finally being released.
She turned away before I could read the expression on her face, her movements quick but not hurried, as if she needed to occupy herself with something—anything—to fill the space between us.
She walked to the kitchen, the soft pad of her footsteps the only sound in the room. I watched as she pulled a glass from the cabinet, her back to me, her shoulders tense but not with the usual rigidity of someone prepared for a fight. No, this was different. It was the tension of someone trying to compose themselves, to find their footing after being caught off guard.
The faucet ran for a moment, and she returned with a glass of water, holding it out to me. "Here," she said, her voice steady but quieter now, as if she were consciously dialing back the intensity of the moment. "You must be tired after your trip."
I took the glass, our fingers brushing briefly as I did. "Thanks," I murmured, meeting her eyes. She didn't look away, but I could see the shift in her—like she was retreating behind a wall, not out of coldness, but out of habit. It was the same way she'd always shielded herself after letting someone in too close.
She hesitated for a second, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, twisting the fabric absentmindedly. It was such a small gesture, but it struck me deeply. This wasn't the Yuko who stood with unshakable confidence, the assassin who moved through the world like a shadow.
This was something else entirely—something softer, younger, almost shy. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice tinged with an uncertainty I rarely heard from her. "I could make something. It's late, but..."
I shook my head, setting the glass down on the table beside me. "No, I'm fine," I said gently. "But thank you."
She nodded, but her fingers didn't stop their restless movement, still twisting at the hem of her sleeve as if it were a lifeline. She stood there, suspended in that strange space between the person she had to be—the unyielding, composed assassin—and the person she allowed herself to be in these rare, unguarded moments. It was like watching someone stand on the edge of a cliff, torn between jumping into the unknown or retreating to safer ground.
I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the weight of everything she carried pressing down on her. "Sister Yuko," I said gently, my voice low, "you should go back and rest. It's been a long day for both of us."
Yuko nodded absentmindedly, as if she were only half-listening, her thoughts still tangled in whatever was weighing on her. Without another word, she turned and walked back into her room, her footsteps quiet, almost hesitant.
I watched her go, the door clicking softly shut behind her, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something left unsaid—something lingering just beneath the surface.
I made my way to Haruna's room, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath my feet a small comfort. The bed was soft as I sank onto it, the weight of the day finally catching up with me. I closed my eyes, but just as I began to drift, a knock at the door pulled me back.
"That..." Yuko's voice was muffled but clear through the wood, hesitant in a way I rarely heard. "I want to ask you something."
I sat up, pushing myself off the bed. "Come in, Sister Yuko," I said, my voice warm, inviting. "What's bothering you?"
The door eased open, and Yuko stepped inside, her silhouette framed by the soft, dim light spilling in from the hallway. She paused just inside the room, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the doorframe, as if she needed something solid to anchor herself to.
When she finally turned to face me, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. It wasn't just curiosity in her gaze—it was something deeper, something searching, as if she were trying to see past my words, past my expressions, to the truth beneath.
For a long moment, she didn't speak. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I've been thinking of taking Haruna to meet her mother... to Japan." She paused, her fingers stilling as she studied my reaction. "Can you come with me?"
I blinked, surprised. Yuko had always been so guarded, so reluctant to even mention Haruna's mother, let alone consider reconnecting with her. The fact that she was willing to take this step—let alone ask me to be part of it—felt like a crack in the armor she'd spent years building.
I looked at her, my surprise giving way to a warm, encouraging smile. "I'd be happy to meet my mother-in-law," I said lightly, though my voice carried the weight of my sincerity. "Just tell me when you want to go. I'll make the arrangements, okay?"
Yuko nodded, but her expression was unreadable, her fingers fidgeting again as she glanced down. "I'll talk to Haruna first," she murmured.
"I know that girl doesn't talk about her mother with me... or ask me to take her back." Her voice wavered slightly, a flicker of something raw passing over her features. "But she misses her. So I decided to take her."
There was a pause, the air between us thick with unspoken emotions. I could see the conflict in her eyes—the love she had for Haruna, the pain of the past, the responsibility she carried. Gently, I asked, "Sister Yuko... don't you miss her too?"
Yuko's gaze snapped back to mine, sharp and sudden. She shook her head, her voice flat, almost hollow. "No." A bitter smile touched her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I don't have a mother."
The words hung between us, heavy and final. It wasn't just a statement—it was a wound, one she'd carried for so long it had become part of her. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, in the way her fingers curled into fists at her sides, as if she were bracing herself against the weight of her own admission.
I watched as Yuko stood there, her body tense, her expression closed off, as if she were bracing herself against the weight of her own words. There was a stubbornness in the way she held herself, a quiet defiance that said she wouldn't—couldn't—let herself feel too much. But beneath that, I could see the cracks, the fragile edges of something she'd spent years trying to bury.
With a quiet sigh, I shifted closer to her, the space between us shrinking until I could see the faintest tremble in her lower lip, the way her breath hitched just slightly as I invaded her carefully constructed boundaries.
My voice was gentle, barely above a whisper, as I reached out to her—not just with words, but with the warmth of my presence. "Sister Yuko..."
She didn't pull away, but she didn't lean in either. She just stood there, frozen, like a wounded animal unsure whether to trust the hand offered to it. Her breath was shallow, her body tense, as if she were caught between the instinct to flee and the desperate, aching need to stay.
For a moment, I thought she might finally let herself fall into the comfort I was offering. But then, as if snapping out of a trance, she abruptly stepped back, her expression shuttering closed.
"I'm going back to sleep," she said, her voice tight, almost brittle. She turned away before I could respond, her movements quick and abrupt, like she was running—not just from the room, but from the emotions she couldn't bear to face.
I watched her go, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me alone in the quiet darkness. But even though she was gone, I could still sense the storm of her thoughts, the chaos she was trying to outrun. Curious—and worried—I reached out with my telepathy, tuning into the frantic whirlwind of her mind.
[ OMG!! ] Her thoughts were a tangled mess of panic and longing, each word dripping with a raw, desperate confusion.
[ I just can't control myself in front of him... ]
The admission was torn from her, laced with shame and frustration.
[ I don't know what I'll do... how to face him, knowing he's my little sister's boyfriend... ] Her heart ached with the weight of it, the guilt twisting like a knife.
[ But I still fell in love with him. ] The thought was a whisper, a confession so quiet it was almost lost in the storm of her emotions. It terrified her—how deeply she felt, how powerless she was to stop it.
Her mind raced, searching for an escape, a way to make the pain stop.[ This time, I'll stay in Japan and never come back... ]The resolve was fierce, desperate.
[ Haruna's grown up now... she doesn't need me like she used to. ] She clung to the thought like a lifeline, even as it broke her.
[ And Jack... Jack is already her boyfriend. He loves her. Dotes on her. He's hers. ]
The words were bitter, a painful reminder of the line she could never cross.
Her thoughts spiraled, the decision hardening in her mind. [ This way... I don't have to face Jack. It's best for both of us. ] She repeated it to herself like a mantra, as if saying it enough would make it true, would make the ache in her chest fade.
I stood there, her thoughts still echoing in my mind like a haunting melody, the weight of her pain pressing down on me until it felt almost physical. She wasn't just running from me—she was running from herself, from the feelings she couldn't bring herself to name, let alone reconcile. And the worst part? She truly believed this was the only way. That leaving, disappearing, cutting herself off—it would fix everything. It would make the ache stop.
A sharp pang shot through my chest, a mix of frustration and something deeper, something that felt dangerously like heartbreak.
This girl is such a fool, I thought, the words bitter in my mind. She'd just keep suffering like this, silently, stubbornly, without ever saying a word, without ever giving herself a chance to be happy. Without realizing that running wouldn't change how she felt—it would only make it worse.
I shook my head, the weight of it all settling over me like a suffocating blanket. I couldn't just let her go like this. Not when I knew the truth. Not when I could see how much it was tearing her apart. But what could I do? Force her to stay? Demand she face her feelings? That wasn't fair to her—or to Haruna, or even to me.
With a heavy sigh, I lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as my mind raced, searching for an answer.
I reached out to SERA, her presence in my mind a steady, familiar comfort.
"SERA, give me an update on the company's situation," I instructed, my voice calm, my tone deliberate. If I couldn't fix Yuko's problems right now, I could at least make sure everything else was in order.
The information flooded my mind instantly. I reviewed the funds available—more than enough to cover anything we needed, more than enough to ensure stability. I don't need to worry about money, I thought, a small sense of relief cutting through the chaos of my emotions.
As I reviewed the details about the company's new film project—a full-scale production with live actors and actresses—I felt a flicker of excitement. The auditions were set to begin soon, and the gears were already in motion.
It was a bold step, a new direction, and part of me itched to dive into the logistics, the planning, the creative chaos of it all. But another part of me couldn't shake the weight of Yuko's absence, the way she'd slipped away like a shadow at dawn.
By the time morning light filtered through the windows, I was already on my feet, stretching out the stiffness from a night of restless thoughts. I wandered through the villa, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of Yuko in the hallway or the garden.
But she was nowhere to be seen. The quiet confirmation settled in my chest: she was avoiding me. The realization stung, but I pushed it aside for now. There would be time to address it later.
I teleported back to the main villa, where the morning was already alive with activity. Julie and the others were gathered in the dining area, the scent of fresh coffee and warm bread filling the air. Everyone had washed up and was now settled around the table, plates piled with breakfast, laughter and chatter weaving through the room like a comfortable blanket.
Natalya and Isabella were deep in conversation, their heads bent together as they shared stories, their voices bright and animated. Polina and the other bodyguards stood at their posts, their expressions professional but their stances relaxed—this was a safe space, after all. They knew their roles, and they executed them with quiet efficiency.
Claire spotted me first and made her way over, her eyes warm. "Husband," she said softly, her voice carrying that familiar affection, "I want to go and meet my daughters."
I nodded without hesitation, my voice firm but warm. "Of course," I said to Claire, "Take Yelena with you." Claire's face lit up with gratitude, her eyes shimmering with excitement as she turned to Yelena, who was already bouncing on her toes.
"Come on, sweetie! We're going shopping!" Yelena let out a delighted squeal, and the two of them hurried out, their laughter lingering in the air.
Before I could even reach for my coffee, Stella approached, a plate of breakfast in hand. "Here you go," she said, her voice warm as she set it down in front of me.
"You've been skipping meals again. Eat." Her tone was teasing but firm, the way only she could manage—like a mother hen who wouldn't take no for an answer.
But before I could take a bite, Marina came barreling toward me, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Husband!" she declared, her voice playful but insistent, "You promised to take me to Grandma's! You said we'd go!" She pouted dramatically, her arms crossing over her chest in mock frustration.
I chuckled, reaching out to pinch her nose before pulling her into a quick, affectionate kiss. "Okay, okay, my little tyrant," I said, feigning surrender. "I'm sorry we've delayed it. Let's go after breakfast, alright? I'll teleport us there directly." I smirked, my thumb brushing her lower lip. "Happy now?"
Marina's pout melted into a radiant grin. She threw her arms around my neck, pressing a loud, smacking kiss to my cheek. "Happy!" she sang, her voice ringing with delight. "But if you delay again, I'll punish you!" She winked before skipping away, leaving me shaking my head with a grin.
Just as I finally picked up my fork, Jessica slid into the seat beside me, her expression tense. "Husband," she said, her voice low and urgent, "Cindy came to see me again. She's demanding I quit your company and return to her father's."
I set my fork down slowly, turning to face her fully. My smirk was deliberate, my voice dropping into a low, teasing growl. "Oh, is she now?" I leaned in closer, my hand finding her thigh beneath the table, my fingers tracing slow, possessive circles. "And what did you tell her, my love?"
Jessica's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing as she glanced around nervously. "I—I told her I'd think about it," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
I let out a dark chuckle, my grip tightening just enough to make her gasp. "You'll think about it?" I repeated, my voice dripping with mock disappointment. "Or should I remind you who you belong to?" My fingers slid higher, my thumb brushing dangerously close to where her legs met.
"Maybe I should fuck you right in front of her, so your dear daughter can see exactly who owns this pretty little body of yours." My lips brushed the shell of her ear, my voice a sinful whisper. "Would you like that? Should I show her how good you are for me?"
Jessica's face burned crimson, her body tensing as she squirmed under my touch. "H-Husband, " she protested, but her voice lacked conviction, her eyes darkening with a mix of shame and desire.
I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my smirk wicked. "Then you'd better tell her no," I murmured, my thumb pressing just a little harder, "or I'll make sure she never forgets who you kneel for."
Jessica's breath came in shallow gasps, her fingers clutching the edge of the table. "I—I'll listen to you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'll tell her no."
"Good girl," I purred, finally releasing her—only to let my hand trail up to her waist, pulling her flush against me for a brief, possessive kiss. "Now go arrange that meeting. I want to see her face when you tell her you're mine."
Jessica nodded, her body still trembling as she stood, her legs unsteady. "Y-Yes, Husband," she breathed, before hurrying away, her cheeks still flushed.
Karen cleared her throat, pulling my attention. "Husband, Kate and Jennifer have been asking for you again," she said, her tone dry but amused. "They won't stop until you see them."
I nodded, my mind already shifting gears, the weight of responsibility settling comfortably on my shoulders. "I'm heading to Mexico first," I said, my voice steady and assured. "When I get back, I'll deal with Kate and Jennifer."
I glanced around at the women gathered—Stella, Karen, Jessica, and Marina—my expression softening as I took in their familiar faces. "And the company—you all know what to do. Manage it however you see fit. I trust you."
After breakfast, I pulled Marina into a warm, lingering hug, her body pressing against mine as she nuzzled into my chest. "Ready, my love?" I murmured, my lips brushing the top of her head. She nodded eagerly, her arms tightening around me for just a second longer before I wrapped us in the familiar rush of teleportation energy.
In an instant, we were standing outside Marina's grandma's house in Mexico. The warm, golden sunlight bathed the quaint, rustic home, the scent of blooming flowers and earth filling the air. Marina's fingers twined with mine, her excitement palpable as she reached out to ring the bell.
The door swung open almost immediately, revealing the two maids I had left behind to care for her grandma. Their eyes widened in recognition, and they instantly bowed their heads. "Master," they said in unison, their voices filled with respect and relief.
The maids ushered us inside, their movements efficient yet warm. As we stepped into the living room, I saw Marina's grandma sitting in her favorite armchair, a plate of food balanced on her lap as she watched TV.
She turned her head at the sound of our entrance, her eyes widening in shock as they landed on Marina.
"Marina?" she breathed, her voice trembling with disbelief.
Marina didn't hesitate. She let go of my hand and rushed forward, throwing herself into her grandma's arms. "Grandma!" she sobbed, her voice breaking with emotion as she buried her face in the older woman's shoulder. "I missed you so much!"
Her grandma's hands shook slightly as she wrapped her arms around Marina, holding her tight. "Oh, my girl," she whispered, her own voice thick with tears.
"My sweet, sweet girl. I missed you, too." She pressed a kiss to the top of Marina's head, her fingers stroking her hair as if reassuring herself that this wasn't a dream.
I stood back, watching the scene unfold with a warmth spreading through my chest. The maids quietly excused themselves, giving us privacy, while I moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Marina's back.
Grandma sat between us on the plush couch, her hands clasped in her lap as she beamed at Marina, her voice brimming with affection. "Ay, mi tesorito, it's been too long since I last saw that beautiful face of yours!" she exclaimed, pulling Marina into another tight hug before settling back into the cushions.
"Look at you—all grown up and glowing! And you!" She turned to me, her sharp eyes twinkling. "Always stealing my granddaughter away from me, eh?"
Marina giggled, nestling closer to her grandma, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. "Grandma, we're right here now," she said, her voice sweet but laced with the warmth of familiarity. "And we're not going anywhere for a while."
I leaned back against the couch, my arm draped casually along the backrest, my fingers brushing against Marina's shoulder. The movement was innocent—almost.
My touch slid downward, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on the swell of her ass, hidden beneath the denim of her jeans. Marina's breath hitched, her body tensing for just a second before she forced herself to relax, her cheeks already flushing pink.
The two maids, Ema and Eva, entered the room silently, each carrying a tray with glasses of water and a plate of freshly baked conchas. Ema, the redhead, set the tray down on the coffee table, her green eyes flickering toward me for just a second before she bowed her head.
"Master," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with something deeper—awareness. Eva, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, followed suit, her movements precise, her gaze lingering just a second too long on where my hand rested against Marina's jeans.
"Thank you, girls," I said, my voice smooth, my fingers already tracing slow, deliberate circles over the denim. Marina squirmed imperceptibly, her thighs pressing together as she tried to focus on her grandma's chatter.
"So, Marina," Grandma said, reaching for a concha and breaking off a piece, "tell me everything! How's work? How's that handsome devil treating you?" She jerked her chin toward me, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
Marina's voice wavered just slightly as she answered, "W-Work's good! Busy, but good. And h-he's..." She swallowed hard as my fingers pressed firmer against her ass, my thumb finding the seam of her jeans and tracing it with slow, maddening precision.
"He's fine. More than fine." Her words came out breathier than she intended, and she quickly cleared her throat, her fingers tightening around the edge of the couch.
Grandma's eyebrows shot up, her gaze sharpening. "'More than fine'?" she repeated, her voice teasing. "Oh, mi amor, that doesn't sound like 'fine' to me. That sounds very good." She let out a cackle, nudging Marina's knee playfully. "You're blushing! What's he doing to you over there, huh?"
Marina's face burned crimson. "G-Grandma!" she squeaked, her body tensing as my fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, my fingertips brushing against the smooth, warm skin of her ass. I didn't stop there.
My middle finger slid lower, teasing the cleft of her cheeks, my touch feather-light but impossible to ignore.
"Nothing she doesn't like," I said, my voice a low, smug drawl as I met Grandma's gaze. My finger traced downward, pressing just barely against the tight, forbidden pucker of Marina's asshole through the thin fabric of her panties.
Marina's breath hitched, her nails digging into the couch cushions as she forced a laugh, her voice high and unsteady.
"Y-You're impossible!" she stammered, her hips twitching involuntarily as I applied the slightest pressure, my finger circling that sensitive spot with slow, deliberate strokes.
Grandma let out another hearty laugh, her sharp eyes missing nothing as she wagged a finger at Marina. "Oh, I know that look, mija," she said, her voice laced with amusement and a hint of suspicion. "You're holding something back. I can see it in your face. Spill it!"
Marina's thighs clenched together, her breath hitching as my finger pressed just a little harder against the tight pucker of her asshole through the thin fabric of her panties.
A tiny, suppressed whimper escaped her lips, her fingers digging into the couch cushions. "N-Nothing!" she insisted, her voice trembling, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "I-I just—it's hot in here!"
Grandma's eyebrows rose, her gaze flicking between Marina's flushed face and my smug expression. "Hot, huh?" she said, clearly not buying it. "Well, if it's that hot, maybe you should take off a layer or two." She chuckled, nudging Marina's knee playfully. "Or are you just trying to hide something from your poor old grandma?"
Marina's breath hitched again as my finger traced slow, maddening circles against her asshole, the pressure just enough to make her squirm. "N-No!" she stammered, her voice squeaking as she tried to focus on Grandma's words. "I'm not hiding anything!"
Grandma leaned back in her seat, her expression turning mischievous. "Okay, mija," she said, her tone teasing. "Then tell me—when can I see my grandson's face?"
She folded her arms, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're not young anymore, Marina. You have to get pregnant quickly!"
Marina's face burned even brighter, her body tensing as my finger pressed just a little harder, teasing the entrance of her asshole. "G-Grandma!" she stammered, her voice high-pitched and flustered. "We're—ah!—we're working on it!" Another tiny whimper escaped her as my finger circled her tight hole, my touch maddeningly slow and deliberate.
Grandma let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Working on it, huh?" she said, her voice laced with skepticism. "Well, you'd better work harder, mija. I'm not getting any younger, you know!" She reached over and patted Marina's knee, her expression softening. "I want to see my great-grandchildren before I go, mi amor."
Marina's breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as my finger finally pushed just the slightest bit inside her, the intrusion sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. "Y-Yes, Grandma," she managed to say, her voice breathless and strained. "We're—nn—we're trying our best!"
Grandma chuckled, her gaze flicking to me. "And what about you, mijo?" she asked, her voice sharp but affectionate. "Are you doing your part to give me a great-grandchild, or are you just keeping my granddaughter distracted?"
I smirked, my finger still buried just shallowly inside Marina's tight ass, her body trembling with the effort of staying quiet. "Oh, I'm doing my part," I said, my voice a low, confident drawl. "Marina can attest to that, can't you, mi amor?"
Marina let out a whimper, her face buried in her hands as she tried to compose herself. "J-Jack!" she hissed under her breath, her body arching slightly as my finger teased her entrance, my touch maddeningly precise.
Grandma burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Ay, Dios mío!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You two are impossible!" She turned back to Marina, her expression softening.
"But seriously, mija—I want to see you happy. And if that means giving me a bunch of bisnietos to spoil, then so be it!"
Marina's breath hitched as my finger pressed deeper, the intrusion sending another shudder through her. "Y-Yes, Grandma," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "We'll—ah!—we'll make it happen!"
Grandma's eyes twinkled with amusement as she watched Marina squirm in her seat, clearly enjoying the show. "Good," she said, her voice warm and affectionate. "Because I'm not waiting forever, mija!"
She leaned back in her seat, her expression turning thoughtful as she studied Marina's flushed face and my possessive grip on her thigh. "And you, mijo—" she turned to me, her gaze sharp but fond, "—you'd better take good care of my granddaughter. She deserves the world."
Marina finally managed to catch her breath, her cheeks still pink as she shifted slightly, trying to compose herself. "Grandma," she said, her voice softening as she reached out to take her grandma's hand, "how have you been? Really. We've been so worried about you."
Grandma's expression softened, her fingers squeezing Marina's gently. "Oh, mi amor," she said, her voice warm and full of affection.
"I've been just fine. Better than fine, actually." She glanced over at Ema and Eva, who were standing quietly near the doorway, their hands clasped in front of them.
"I have these two daughters now—Ema and Eva," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she turned back to Marina. "They treat me even better than you do, mija."
Marina's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Grandma!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in indignation like a scolded child. "That's not fair! I always take care of you!" She pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she crossed her arms over her chest, her earlier embarrassment momentarily forgotten.
Grandma let out a delighted laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, ay, look at you!" she teased, reaching out to pinch Marina's cheek affectionately. "Always so dramatic! I'm just joking, mi vida."
She glanced at Ema and Eva, who were trying—and failing—to hide their smiles. "But it is true. These girls spoil me rotten. They make me breakfast in bed, they watch my novelas with me, they even rub my feet when my arthritis acts up!"
Marina's pout deepened, though there was no real anger in her eyes. "Well, I would do all that too if I were here!" she huffed, her fingers tapping impatiently against her knee.
"But someone keeps dragging me all over the world!" She shot me a sideways glare, though her eyes were sparkling with affection.
I chuckled, my hand sliding up to rest on the nape of Marina's neck, my thumb brushing soothing circles against her skin. "Someone has to keep you busy, mi amor," I said, my voice a low tease. "Otherwise, you'd be here spoiling Grandma too much, and then she'd never let you leave."
Grandma cackled, clapping her hands together. "You're damn right about that!" she said, her voice full of laughter. "I'd keep you here forever, mija! You and all those future bisnietos I'm waiting for!"
Marina groaned, her face flushing again as she buried it in her hands. "Grandma, por favor!" she pleaded, her voice muffled but amused. "You and Jack are impossible!"
Grandma just laughed harder, reaching out to pull Marina's hands away from her face. "No, mi vida," she said, her voice softening as she cupped Marina's cheek. "We're just realistic. And we love you. That's all."
Marina's expression softened, her earlier annoyance melting away as she leaned into Grandma's touch, her body relaxing into the warmth of the embrace. "I love you too, Grandma," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes glistening. "More than anything."
I slowly pulled my hand back from Marina's ass, my fingers lingering for just a second before I brought them to my nose, inhaling deeply. The scent of her—warm, musky, intoxicating—filled my senses, and I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips as Marina's face flushed a deep, mortified red. "I'm going to take a shower," I said, my voice smooth, my gaze locking onto Marina's wide, embarrassed eyes. "You guys chat. I'll be back."
Grandma chuckled, shaking her head at Marina's flustered expression before calling out, "Ema! Take Jack and show him to the room. And give him the clothes we bought for him when we went out!"
Ema's voice came from the hallway, soft but eager. "Okay, Grandma."
I followed Ema inside, the door clicking shut behind us as we stepped into the dimly lit guest room. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and cedar, the space warm and inviting. But before I could take in the details, Ema turned to face me, her green eyes bright with anticipation, her cheeks already flushed pink.
"Master..." she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly as she stepped closer, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her apron. "You didn't forget about me, did you?"
I looked down at her, taking in the way her red hair caught the light, the freckles dusting her cheeks, the way her lips parted just slightly as she waited for my answer.
I knew these women—created by the system, bound by loyalty, but alive with feeling—were designed to serve me with absolute devotion. And Ema? She wore her heart on her sleeve, her emotions raw and unguarded.
"How could I?" I murmured, my voice low, my hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. My fingers lingered on her cheek, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. "You've been on my mind, Ema."
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for just a second as she leaned into my touch. "I want to serve you, Master," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. "In every way."
I didn't hesitate. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her into me as I captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss.
She melted against me, her body pliant, her fingers clutching at my shirt as she kissed me back with a desperation that sent a jolt of heat through my veins. When I finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with need.
The moment Ema's uniform hit the floor, my breath caught in my throat. Her body was a masterpiece of sensual artistry—every curve, every piercing designed to drive me wild. Her tits heaved with each ragged breath, the silver hoops through her nipples glinting as they hardened under my gaze. My fingers itched to touch them, to twist them, to hear her gasp.
But it was the barbell in her navel that first drew my attention, the way it shifted with her trembling breaths. Then lower—oh fuck—the tiny clit ring, winking at me like a dare from between her spread thighs.
I dropped to my knees before her, my hands gripping her hips as I pulled her closer. "When did you get these?" I growled, my thumb brushing against the cold metal of her clit ring. Ema's entire body jerked, a sharp, needy whimper tearing from her throat.
"N-Never, Master," she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair. "I was born with them. You—ah!—you made me this way."
A dark, possessive thrill surged through me. I had shaped her like this—unintentionally, yet undeniably. Every piercing, every sensitive inch of her, all designed to respond to my touch.
I barely remembered the moment I created her; I had let the system generate her body randomly, never imagining that even chance could craft something so perfectly attuned to me.
My thumb and forefinger found her nipple rings, pinching gently. Ema's back arched, a broken moan spilling from her lips. "Master—! They're so sensitive—!"
"Good," I murmured, giving them a firmer tug. Her whimper turned into a desperate cry, her hips bucking forward. "I want you sensitive. I want you aching for my touch."
My other hand slid down, my fingers finding her clit ring. I twisted it gently, just enough to make her gasp. "And this little thing," I said, my voice dark with promise. "I'm going to make you feel it with every inch of my cock."
Ema's breath hitched, her thighs trembling. "P-Please, Master—!"
I didn't let her finish. I pushed her back onto the rug, her body sprawling beneath me. Her tits bounced with the movement, her nipple rings jingling softly. I hovered over her, my cock already hard and leaking, already aching to feel those piercings against it.
"Spread your legs, Ema," I commanded, my voice rough. "Let me see that pretty pierced pussy."
She obeyed instantly, her thighs falling open. The clit ring glinted in the dim light, her folds already slick with arousal. I couldn't resist—I leaned down, my tongue flicking against the metal. Ema screamed, her back arching off the floor.
"Master—! Oh gods—!"
I chuckled darkly against her skin. "You like that, don't you? My tongue on your little ring?"
"Y-Yes!" she sobbed, her fingers clutching at my hair. "But I need—nnn—I need your cock, Master! Please!"
I sat up, gripping the base of my cock. "Beg for it," I ordered, my thumb brushing against her clit ring again. She whimpered, her hips lifting off the floor.
"Please, Master!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I need your cock inside me! I need to feel it hitting my ring—!nn—please, I'll be so good for you!"
My hands clamped around Ema's waist like iron, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as I yanked her against me.
The heat of her skin burned through my palms, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. I could feel her heart hammering against my chest, each frantic beat matching the pulse throbbing in my cock.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice already thick with need. The word came out broken, her lips parting as her breath hitched. Her fingers clawed at my shoulders, not to push me away but to pull me closer, her short nails biting into my skin. "I don't know if I can—"
"You can," I cut her off, my voice rough as gravel. My free hand slid up her torso, finding the weight of her breast.
The moment my thumb brushed against her nipple ring, she gasped, her back arching like a bowstring drawn tight. I pinched the cold metal between my fingers and twisted, just enough to make her whine.
A shudder ran through her entire body. "Nngh—it hurts," she breathed, but her hips rolled forward, pressing her dripping pussy against my cock. The wet heat of her seeped through the fabric of my pants, her arousal so thick I could smell it—sweet and musky, like honeyed sin.
I didn't give her time to think. My hand left her breast only to shove between her thighs, two fingers finding her clit ring. The moment I touched it, her entire body jerked, a broken moan spilling from her lips. "Oh god—"
With my other hand still gripping her hip hard enough to bruise, I lined myself up against her entrance. The head of my cock pressed against her virgin tightness, and she froze, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"Master, wait—I'm—"
I didn't wait.
The first inch was the hardest. Her body resisted, her muscles clenching against the invasion. I groaned as her heat enveloped just the tip, her walls already fluttering around me. Her nails dug deeper into my skin, her breath coming in ragged sobs.
"Too much," she whimpered, but her hips betrayed her, rolling forward just slightly, taking me deeper. "It's too—ah!—too big—"
I twisted her clit ring.
Her back arched off the floor, a guttural cry tearing from her throat as her body finally gave way. Another inch sank into her, her pussy stretching obscenely around my girth. I could feel her trembling, her inner walls clinging to me like a vice.
"Fuck, you're tight," I growled, my voice strained. My fingers found her nipple again, rolling the piercing between them as I pushed forward another inch. Her whimper turned into a keening wail, her body convulsing beneath me.
"Master, please—" Her voice cracked, her thighs shaking violently. "I can't—I can't take—"
"You can," I snarled, my hips rolling forward as I bottomed out in one brutal thrust.
The scream that tore from her throat was raw and primal, her body going rigid beneath me. Her pussy clenched around me so tightly it nearly hurt, her inner walls fluttering in panic. I stayed buried to the hilt, letting her adjust to the stretch, my fingers still toying with her piercings.
Her breath came in ragged sobs, her chest heaving. "It's... It's inside me," she gasped, her voice thick with disbelief. "All of you—"
I pulled back slightly, then slammed back in. Her cry was high and desperate, her nails raking down my back. "Yes," I growled. "All of me. And you're going to take every fucking inch."
I set a punishing rhythm, my cock pistoning in and out of her virgin pussy. Each thrust made her gasp, her body jerking with the force. Her tits bounced with every movement, her nipple rings jingling softly. I reached down and pinched one, twisting it as I fucked her harder.