The county market stank of fish, diesel, and ambition. Li Yi's borrowed flatbed truck—rusted but serviceable—sat loaded with two hundred jin of glossy hybrid rice, the first harvest from their experimental plot. Double the village average. Heads turned as Tang Xue hopped down from the cab, crimson skirt fluttering against sun-browned thighs.
Li Yi watched from the tailgate, arms crossed, pride and lust warring in his gut. She moved like a cat through the crowd—hips rolling, braid swinging, voice sweet as lychee when she haggled. Buyers circled: a fat grain merchant with gold teeth, a restaurant owner from the city, even a minor official sniffing for bribes.
"Forty-five fen per jin," she told the merchant, leaning just enough for the neckline of her blouse to gape. A calculated flash of cleavage. "Take it or watch it rot in someone else's silo."
The merchant licked his lips, eyes on her chest. "Forty. And dinner tonight."
Tang Xue laughed, low and throaty. "My husband doesn't share." She jerked her chin toward Li Yi, who met the man's stare with flat menace. The merchant swallowed, upped to forty-three.
Deal sealed with a slap of palms. The rice vanished into sacks; crumpled yuan filled a tin box. By dusk, the truck bed was empty save for a tarp, two empty rice sacks, and the lingering scent of Tang Xue's triumph.
They drove out of town on a dirt track, headlights cutting through cicada song. Li Yi pulled over beneath a stand of bamboo, moonlight striping the truck bed like silver bars. He killed the engine.
"Get in the back," he said.
Tang Xue's eyes glittered. She climbed over the seat, skirt riding high. He followed, spreading the tarp like a blanket. The metal was still warm from the day's sun.
"On your knees, wife."
She obeyed, palms flat on the sacks, ass tilted up. The skirt flipped over her hips—no undergarments again; she'd learned his preference fast. Moonlight painted her pussy in shades of pearl and shadow, lips puffy, glistening with anticipation.
Li Yi knelt behind her, hands gripping her hips. "You flirted with half the market."
"I bargained," she corrected, pushing back against his clothed cock. "And I thought of you the whole time."
He freed himself, sliding along her slit without entering—teasing, coating himself in her slick. "Thought of me while that pig stared at your tits?"
"Thought of you bending me over the crates and fucking me silent," she breathed. "Do it, Yi. Right here where anyone could drive by."
The risk snapped his control. He slammed in—one brutal thrust that buried him to the root. Tang Xue's cry echoed into the bamboo. The truck rocked on its springs as he set a punishing rhythm, hips slapping against her ass, balls swinging heavy.
Her breasts spilled from her blouse; he reached around to pinch a nipple, rolling it until she sobbed. The angle was perfect—every stroke dragged across that spot inside her that made her shake. She came fast, pussy clamping like a fist, juices dripping down his thighs.
He didn't stop. Pulled out only to flip her onto her back, legs over his shoulders. The truck's metal groaned beneath them. Moonlight bathed her face—flushed, lips parted, eyes wild. He drove back in, slower now, savoring the drag of her walls.
"Look at me," he ordered.
She did, pupils blown wide. "Love you," she gasped with every thrust. "Love—ah!—this cock—love our life—"
He swallowed the rest with a kiss, tongues tangling as he ground deep. Her second orgasm milked him dry; he spilled inside her with a guttural groan, hips jerking through the pulses.
They lay spent, truck bed creaking as it cooled. Crickets replaced their moans. Li Yi traced the sweat between her breasts.
"Three thousand yuan today," he murmured. "Enough for the generator. Next month, we buy the old textile mill."
Tang Xue nipped his jaw. "And after that?"
"After that, I fuck you on silk sheets in a house with electric lights."
She laughed, clenching around his softening length. "Start with the truck bed. I like an audience of stars."
Headlights flickered far down the track—another late traveler. Li Yi pulled the tarp over them, still joined, and waited for the glow to pass. In the dark, Tang Xue whispered, "Chapter two of our empire begins tomorrow."
He thrust lazily, already stirring again. "Tonight's not over."
The bamboo rustled. The truck rocked. And somewhere in the county seat, merchants counted coins—oblivious that the real fortune was being forged under moonlight, one shuddering climax at a time.
The textile mill squatted on the riverbank like a sleeping dragon—red brick walls cracked, windows fogged with decades of lint. Inside, the air tasted of oil, dye, and desperation. The owner, Old Man Zhao, paced between silent looms, ledger clutched like a dying child.
Li Yi stepped through the doors with Tang Xue on his arm and a new shadow at their heels: **Lin Wanqing**, twenty-two, city-educated, and the mill's former accountant. She'd been let go when payroll dried up. Now she was back—hair pinned in a severe bun, glasses glinting, blouse crisp despite the heat. Her lips were thin, but her eyes held fire.
"Three thousand yuan down," Li Yi said, slapping the tin box on Zhao's desk. "Balance in six months at five percent. You walk away with dignity and a full belly."
Zhao opened his mouth to argue. Tang Xue leaned forward, blouse dipping just enough to reveal the upper swell of her breasts—still flushed from the morning's quick tumble in the truck cab. "Think of your wife's medicine," she murmured. "Think of sleep without creditors at the door."
Lin Wanqing said nothing, but her gaze flicked to Li Yi—assessing, hungry. She'd heard rumors in town: the reborn farmer who turned rice into gold, who fucked his wife in open fields and still tripled yields. Curiosity had dragged her here. Ambition kept her.
Zhao signed. The dragon changed hands.
That night, the mill belonged to them. Moonlight speared through broken skylights, striping the factory floor in silver. Looms stood like frozen dancers. Li Yi locked the gates, then turned to the women.
"Celebration," he declared. "On silk."
Bolts of raw white fabric—Zhao's last stock—lay stacked against the wall. Tang Xue kicked off her sandals and climbed atop the pile, skirt fluttering to her thighs. Lin Wanqing hesitated, then followed, glasses fogging slightly in the warm air.
Li Yi approached Tang Xue first. He kissed her slow and filthy, hands sliding under her skirt to cup bare ass. She moaned into his mouth, already wet—he could smell her arousal sharp as citrus. Lin Wanqing watched, throat working.
"Wanqing," Li Yi said, voice rough. "Join or leave. No shame either way."
She stepped closer. "I want... to learn." Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse. Small breasts, high and perfect, nipples dark against pale skin. Tang Xue reached out, thumb brushing one peak. Lin Wanqing gasped, but didn't pull away.
Li Yi stripped Tang Xue efficiently—skirt pooled, blouse tossed. She lay back on the silk, legs spread, pussy glistening. He knelt between them, tongue delving deep. Tang Xue's hips rolled; she threaded fingers through his hair, guiding him.
Lin Wanqing knelt beside them, fascinated. Tang Xue pulled her down into a kiss—soft at first, then hungry. Lin's glasses slipped; Tang Xue removed them gently, setting them aside. Their breasts pressed together, nipples rubbing as they moved.
Li Yi rose, cock jutting thick and proud. He entered Tang Xue in one slick thrust—she was ready, always ready. Lin Wanqing's hand drifted between her own thighs, rubbing through cotton panties. Tang Xue broke the kiss to whisper, "Touch yourself properly, city girl. Show me."
Lin obeyed, shoving panties down, fingers circling her clit. She was shaved smooth—city fashion—and already dripping. Li Yi watched, pace slowing to savor the sight. "Come here," he ordered.
Lin crawled forward. He pulled out of Tang Xue, slick cock bobbing, and fed it to Lin's mouth. She took him eagerly—lips stretching, tongue swirling. Tang Xue knelt behind her, hands cupping small breasts, rolling nipples until Lin moaned around his shaft.
The silk shifted beneath them, cool and slippery. Li Yi fucked Lin's mouth slow, then withdrew to paint her lips with precum. Tang Xue lay back again, pulling Lin atop her in a 69. Their tongues met—Lin tentative, Tang Xue greedy—lapping at each other's folds while Li Yi watched, stroking himself.
He entered Tang Xue from behind while she ate Lin. The angle drove deep; Tang Xue screamed into Lin's pussy. Lin came first—sharp, shocked, thighs clamping Tang Xue's head. Juices flooded Tang's mouth; she swallowed greedily.
Li Yi pulled out, flipped Lin onto her back beside Tang Xue. Two women, side by side, legs spread, pussies flushed and shining. He took Lin first—tight, virgin-tight despite her city polish. She whimpered as he stretched her, then sighed when Tang Xue kissed the tears from her cheeks.
He alternated—thrusts into Lin, then Tang Xue, then Lin again. The silk grew damp beneath them. Their moans braided together—high and low, desperate and sated. When Tang Xue came, she squirted—a first—liquid heat splashing Lin's thighs. The sight undid Li Yi; he pulled out to stripe both their bellies with thick ropes of cum.
They lay panting, silk ruined and perfect. Lin Wanqing traced a finger through the mess on her stomach, then licked it clean. "I'll handle the books," she said, voice husky. "And the night shifts."
Tang Xue laughed, pulling her into a sticky embrace. "Welcome to the empire, partner."
Outside, the river rushed on. Inside, the looms waited for tomorrow's hands—and three bodies tangled in moonlight, already planning the next conquest.