Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 1095

Chapter 1095: Chapter 1095 Credential
Ross glanced down lazily, completely unbothered by their excitement.

“That’s not my come, Chelsea. You really are naïve,” he said with a faint smirk. “That’s just my precome. My actual release is… significantly more than that.”

Lea froze mid-stroke, staring at the glistening shaft that was now fully coated in slick fluid.

“Oh no…” she whispered. “He’s right, Chelsea. This isn’t enough. Not even close. We need to work harder.”

Chelsea groaned, letting her head fall back for a moment. “Harder? How much harder can we go? This thing is like a giant oiled tree trunk!”

Lea didn’t answer. She just tightened her grip and continued with renewed effort, determined not to let Chelsea outdo her.

After a long, tense moment, Chelsea squinted at Ross’s lower body… and then her eyes lit up.

“Okay! I’ve got it!” she announced, shifting into a new position. “I’ll work on his huge balls, and you stay on the cock, sis.”

Lea blinked. “His… balls? But they’re enormous, Chelsea.”

“I know,” Chelsea said, already lowering herself until her hands reached the heavy, swinging orbs beneath the thick shaft.

“That’s why we need a division of labor. You take the monster,” she said, pointing at the shaft with her chin, “and I’ll handle the bombs.”

Lea swallowed but nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Chelsea gently cupped one of Ross’s massive balls with both hands, amazed at the weight of it. “It’s like holding a warm melon… how does he even walk with these?”

Lea continued pumping the shaft above, her strokes long and deliberate. “I don’t know. But we need to focus. If this is what it takes, then we’re doing it.”

Chelsea massaged the heavy orbs with slow circles, lifting, squeezing, and rubbing with an intensity that surprised even her.

Ross finally let out a low, approving rumble. “Now you’re doing something right.”

The sisters exchanged a quick, nervous glance—but neither stopped.

They were far too deep into this plan to back out now.

And Ross… was finally starting to react.

Tap

Tap

Tap

The two sisters kept going, their determination slowly turning into agony.

Their soft hands glided along Ross’s monstrous length again and again, but the repetition was brutal.

Their arms trembled, fingers cramped, and wrists begged for mercy. Still, they refused to stop.

Every time they even thought about slowing down, they remembered why they were doing this in the first place—and forced themselves to continue.

Minutes stretched into an hour. Then beyond.

Chelsea’s hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Lea’s breathing had become ragged.

Their clothes clung to their skin from the heat of their efforts.

“This… this is torture,” Chelsea gasped, trying to stretch her fingers for a split second before resuming her strokes. “My hands feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“Mine too,” Lea panted, her shoulders screaming in pain. “I swear my arms are going numb—like, actually numb.”

But even while complaining, their hands never stopped moving.

They slid up the massive 15-inch shaft, gliding over the slickness of Ross’s constant precome, fingers trembling with overuse.

Chelsea shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is possible. We’ve been pumping this thing nonstop for—what—an hour and a half?”

“Almost two,” Lea corrected, exhausted. “No man lasts this long. None. Most men would’ve exploded way before thirty minutes.”

“And that’s being generous,” Chelsea muttered.

Ross watched all this with amused calmness, not even straining.

His breathing was steady, relaxed—annoyingly relaxed. His hands were behind his head.

His chest didn’t even rise with any difficulty.

“Well,” he finally said, in a tone that made both sisters want to scream, “if you’re trying to make me come with just your hands… you’re going to be disappointed. Painfully disappointed.”

Chelsea stopped for half a second, jaw dropping. “What do you mean ‘just a handjob’? Do you have any idea how much effort we’re putting in?! We’re dying here!”

Ross smirked, perfectly pleased with himself. “I told you. I’m built stubborn. I don’t break easily.”

Lea groaned, rolling her sore shoulders before gripping the huge shaft again. “Your self-control is ridiculous. Or your stamina is inhuman.”

“Or,” Chelsea added, narrowing her eyes, “your dick is cursed. That’s honestly the only explanation left.”

Another bead of pre slid down Ross’s length, thick and warm against their exhausted fingers.

But even with all that slickness, even with the constant stimulation, Ross didn’t even twitch toward release.

He glanced down at them with lazy confidence. “Don’t misunderstand,” he said casually. “It feels amazing. You two have incredibly soft hands. Really good technique, too.”

The sisters blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected compliment.

“But…” Ross continued, “if you expect actual results? You’re going to need a lot more than that.”

Chelsea groaned dramatically. “We’re not enough?! Seriously?! What else does your stupid monster want?!”

Ross raised an eyebrow. “You’ll figure it out.”

Lea looked down at the massive, throbbing shaft—slick, heavy, and still rock solid.

She swallowed hard.

Chelsea wiped sweat from her forehead. “Fine. If hands aren’t enough, then… then we need a new plan.”

Lea nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Something stronger. Something… more.”

They exchanged a look—tired, overwhelmed, and completely out of ideas.

But they knew one thing for certain:

Ross wasn’t going to make this easy.

And they were only just beginning.

A few more exhausting minutes crawled by.

The sisters’ arms were shaking, their fingers numb from gripping and stroking Ross’s enormous shaft.

Their breathing was ragged, their shoulders burning.

And yet—nothing. Not even a hint of Ross being close.

Chelsea’s eye twitched. She had officially had enough.

“That’s it. I refuse. I refuse to keep doing the same thing.” She jerked her hands away and shook the ache out of her wrists.

“This isn’t working. We need to entice him more.”

“Entice?” Lea repeated, confused. “Chelsea, what are you—”

Chelsea didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up abruptly, grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and—without a second of hesitation—pulled it over her head.

Lea’s jaw dropped. “Chelsea?!” Lea could not believe what her sister did.

Ding!