Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 723

Chapter 723: Would’ve Been Mother’s Pussy (rr-18)
But he didn’t stop.

He spun her, bent her over the shattered chair—ass up high, the full, round globes of her cheeks parted slightly from the position, soft and plush, skin flushed pink and glistening with sweat.

Her cunt gaped open below, pink tunnel pulsing greedily, inner walls fluttering and shining with thick cream that oozed slow and steady from her stretched entrance, dripping in glossy strings to the floor below.

Above it, her tight little asshole winked and clenched in the amber light, ringed with slick lube that caught the glow, twitching with every ragged breath she took.

He fucked her from behind—his massive cock driving into her with deep, punishing strokes, the sheer size of him forcing her pussy to stretch impossibly wide around his girth.

She couldn’t take him all—never could—his length too thick, too long, the last few inches always left outside, pressing insistently against her entrance as her body struggled to accommodate what it could.

Each thrust made her ass cheeks jiggle and dance, the soft globes shaking in hypnotic waves, rippling outward from the impact, flesh quivering long after his hips pulled back.

From behind, the view was pure depravity.

His cock emerged slow and glistening, veins bulging angrily along the shaft, coated thick in her creamy arousal—frothy white rings clinging at the base where her pussy lips gripped him desperately.

Her puffy folds splayed wide around him, flushed deep crimson and stretched thin, dragging outward in slick pink petals with every withdrawal, inner walls blooming open briefly to reveal the hot, velvety tunnel clenching hungrily for more.

Cream bubbled and dripped from the seal, running in messy rivulets down his shaft, over his heavy balls, splattering warm against her thighs.

Then he slammed back in—only as deep as her body would allow, her entrance sealing tight around the thickest part of him, folds quivering and fluttering as another gush of slick cream was forced out in glossy streams.

Her ass cheeks shook harder with the force, globes bouncing and rippling, the soft flesh dancing in perfect, obscene rhythm, her tight asshole clenching visibly above the destruction—winking, glistening, untouched but trembling from the pounding below.

His hand tangled in her blonde hair, yanking her head back—arching her spine into a beautiful bow, scalp burning under his grip as her body rocked forward with each thrust.

His other hand cracked across her ass—sharp, stinging slap that made the full globes jiggle wildly, a fresh red handprint blooming across the pale skin, flesh quivering long after the impact.

“This cunt,” he snarled, voice low and demonic, “Is—mine.”

He released the pheromones; they hit like a tidal wave—a thick, shimmering pink fog erupting from his skin, curling through the penthouse like living smoke, sweet and heady, intoxicating.

It seeped into Janet and Priya’s pores, their lungs, their blood—the air turning humid and pulsing, saturated with raw sex, sweat, and power. Their eyes glazed instantly, pupils blown wide, bodies trembling uncontrollably—cunts clenching hard, squirting untouched in sudden, helpless waves as the scent overwhelmed them completely.

They felt it—every cell igniting, every forbidden nerve screaming for more.

Every touch. Every slap. Every brutal stroke of his fingers on Patricia’s swollen clit.

Janet dropped to her knees, the cold marble biting into her skin like ice against fevered flesh, hands flying to her heavy tits—squeezing the soft, milk-laden globes, pinching the clamped black nipples until they throbbed.

The clamps buzzed with a low, relentless bzzz, sending shocks straight to her core.

Milk sprayed in white jets—warm, thick streams arcing through the pink fog, splattering the marble in messy puddles, coating her thighs and belly as her cunt spasmed violently.

Her clit ring glinted with every involuntary buck of her hips, her pussy clenching hard, squirting clear streams onto the floor in rhythmic pulses, a growing puddle reflecting the amber light while her moans rose high and desperate.

“Oh god—yes—fuck—touch me—”

Priya collapsed against the ottoman, the leather slick and warm with her own juices, legs splayed wide, fingers buried deep in her cunt—fisting herself with wet, obscene urgency, knuckles stretching her entrance as her jeweled plug pulsed in her ass, the tight rim clenching visibly around the gleaming metal.

Her black nipples leaking steadily, splattering her thighs, her pumping fist, her frothing cunt. Cream bubbled and squirted in thick, messy arcs—splat-splat-splat echoing off the walls—as her body shook with untouched pleasure, moans breaking into sobs, her accent thick and shattered.

“Peter—please—your hands—your mouth—fuck—”

But he didn’t touch them. He only touched Patricia. And they felt it all—every sensation mirrored in their own bodies through the thick, shimmering pink fog, every nerve ignited as if his hands were on them.

He grabbed Patricia’s tits—palms sinking into the soft, overflowing flesh, squeezing hard, twisting the gold bars piercing her nipples until milk sprayed in forceful, warm jets.

The sweet liquid coated his chest, his arms, running in sticky rivulets down his skin, mixing with the fog, dripping from his elbows.

He slapped her clit—SMACK—the sharp sound cracking through the air, her swollen nub and ring jolting, her cunt clenching visibly, squirting a hot geyser of cream that soaked his lower belly and thighs, her scream shattering the haze.

“You feel that, Janet?” he roared, slamming into Patricia—the wet schlorp-schlop-schlop deafening as his thick cock pistoned into her ruined pussy, stretching her wide, cream frothing at the seal. “That’s your sister’s cunt—ruined, stretched, owned.”

Janet moaned, back arching off the floor, milk spraying harder from her clamped nipples, cunt spasming and squirting again untouched, her body trembling as sobs of raw pleasure tore from her throat.

“Priya?” he snarled, slamming deeper into Patricia—balls slapping wetly against her ass, the impact making her cheeks jiggle. “That’s what your pussy will feel—destroyed, leaking, begging.”

Priya fingering herself harder—squelch-squelch wet and obscene, knuckles disappearing into her frothing cunt—milk gushing in thick streams, squirting in helpless arcs, her body convulsing as she sobbed his name.

He flipped Patricia onto her back, the leather ottoman creaking under her weight, legs thrown over his shoulders—folding her in half in a deep mated press, her body bent impossibly, ass lifted, pussy gaping wide and ruined.

Cream oozed steadily from her stretched entrance, inner walls pink and fluttering, folds puffy and glistening as they quivered around nothing for a heartbeat. His cock slammed deeper—hitting her cervix with bruising force, stretching her beyond limit, the thud-thud-thud of his pelvis against hers relentless, her body jolting with every punishing stroke.

Her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling, drool running in shiny trails down her chin, pooling warm on her neck as she lost herself completely.

“Look at me,” he commanded, grabbing her throat—fingers wrapping around the hot, slick flesh, squeezing just enough to feel her pulse thunder beneath his grip. “Look at the boy you loved so much—now owning your cunt, ruining the woman who thought she should mother me.”