Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 415- Eating a MILF

She panted, her chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each breath.

Her golden eyes—half-lidded now—tracked down from his face to his chest, his abs, and finally to his cock.

That massive thing, so close to her spread legs, pulsing with each heartbeat.

His hand on her breast squeezed again, kneading, pinching the nipple.

"Nghh..." She bit her lip, trying to suppress the moan, but it came out anyway.

’He’s perfect,’ her lust-addled brain whispered. ’Look at him. Look at that body. That cock. When was the last time anyone touched you like this? When was the last time you felt wanted?’

"But..." she whispered, her voice weak, surrendering. "That thing... it’s too big."

Her eyes were glued to his cock, watching it twitch, seeing the pre-cum already leaking from the tip.

"N-no, what am I even saying..." she swallowed hard, her resistance crumbling. "Just move away before your wives come here?"

Tianlong’s smile widened at her weak protest.

"My wives?" He chuckled darkly. "They won’t be back for a while. They know exactly what I’m doing."

His hand left her breast and moved to her face, cupping her jaw gently.

"And as for this being too big..." His thumb traced her lower lip. "Your body will adapt. It always does."

Before Mira could protest further, he leaned down and kissed her.

His lips pressed against hers—not gentle, not asking permission—claiming. His tongue invaded her mouth immediately, sweeping through, tasting her.

"Mmmph?!"

Mira’s golden eyes went wide with shock. Her hands came up to push against his chest weakly.

But then the sensation hit her.

His tongue dominated hers completely, coiling around it, sucking it into his mouth. The taste of him—masculine, powerful, overwhelming—flooded her senses.

And his pheromones were still thick in the air, making every nerve ending hypersensitive.

’Oh... oh gods...’

Her eyes began to roll back.

"Mmmngh..."

Her resistance melted like wax under flame. Her hands, which had been pushing, slowly slid up his chest, feeling the hard muscle, before wrapping weakly around his neck.

Her body went soft, pliant, surrendering completely to the kiss.

Tianlong pulled back slowly, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

Mira’s eyes were completely glazed, half-rolled back, her mouth hanging open as she panted.

"Hahh... hahh... what... what was..."

She couldn’t even form coherent words. One kiss had short-circuited her brain.

"You’re like wax," Tianlong observed, his voice amused. "And I’m the fire that melts you."

Before she could process that statement, he scooped her up from the table.

"Ahh!" Mira yelped as she was lifted into a princess carry—one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.

Her torn dress fell open completely, exposing her thick body. Her large breasts pressed against his chest, still leaking those small droplets. Her legs dangled, one arm instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance.

Tianlong looked down at her thick thighs, then back to her wide hips and the curve of her substantial ass hanging over his arm.

"With an ass this thick," he said conversationally, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her rear, "I bet your anal is incredibly tight."

"W-WHAT?!" Mira’s face flushed darker red, her brain struggling to catch up. "My... you can’t just... that’s not something you say to..."

Her words trailed off into stammering as his fingers kneaded her ass cheek, feeling the weight, the softness.

"And these," he continued, his crimson-gold eyes dropping to her breasts, "are perfect for a paizuri. I’ll slide my cock between them later and paint your face white."

"Nghh..." Mira’s hazy mind couldn’t process the crude words. The image flashed through her brain—his massive cock between her breasts, his cum shooting onto her face—and her pussy clenched hard, leaking more fluid.

’What’s wrong with me? Why does that sound... appealing?’

Her thoughts were fragmenting, resistance crumbling with each word he spoke.

Tianlong walked toward the small doorway leading to the bedroom, carrying her easily.

He had to duck significantly to fit through the low doorframe, Mira still in his arms.

The bedroom was tiny. A single bed—barely large enough for one person—with a thin, worn mattress. A small nightstand with a candle. A wooden chest in the corner. The walls were bare wood, some planks cracked.

It was the room of someone living in poverty.

Tianlong approached the bed and gently tossed her onto it.

CREAK!

The bed frame protested loudly under her weight, the wood groaning ominously.

Mira bounced once on the thin mattress, her breasts jiggling wildly with the impact before settling. She lay there sprawled, her torn dress barely covering anything, looking up at him with those glazed golden eyes.

But as some clarity returned, she became aware of where they were.

Her bedroom. Her tiny, broken, poverty-stricken bedroom.

And he was standing there—this perfect masculine specimen, this powerful cultivator—in her pathetic living space.

Shame flooded through her.

"I... I’m sorry," she stammered, sitting up slightly, trying to pull her torn dress closed over her breasts. "The room is... it’s not suitable for someone like you. The bed is broken—you can hear how it creaks. The walls have cracks. There’s barely any furniture. A person of your status shouldn’t be in a place like this. You should go to an inn or... or somewhere proper. Not this... not this hovel where someone like me..."

She was spiraling, her insecurities pouring out in a rush of words.

"The mattress is old and probably has bugs and the blanket is patched and you can see the wood is rotting in that corner and I know it smells musty because the roof leaks when it rains and—"

"You talk too much."

Tianlong’s voice cut through her rambling like a blade.

Mira’s mouth snapped shut, her golden eyes wide.

He stepped forward, his cock—still rock-hard, still massive—swaying with each movement.

When he reached the bed, he didn’t lie beside her or climb on top of her.

Instead, he positioned himself at the head of the bed, his cock level with her face.

Then he placed it on her.

THUMP.

The heavy shaft landed across her face—the tip resting above her forehead, the thick veined length lying along her nose and mouth, and his balls...

His balls hung right in front of her face.

They were huge. Massive. Like two oranges in a heavy sac, so close she could see every detail—the texture of the skin, the way they moved slightly with his breathing, the sheer weight of them.

The musky, masculine scent hit her nose directly. Overwhelming. Intoxicating. Making her head spin.

"Mmmph..." Mira whimpered, her eyes crossing slightly as she tried to look at the cock resting on her face.

The heat was incredible. The weight pressed down on her, making her feel pinned, dominated, owned.

Tianlong looked down at her—this thick MILF with his cock on her face, his balls inches from her mouth—and spoke with absolute authority:

"Suck them. And massage my cock with your hands."

Mira’s brain short-circuited again.

’He... he wants me to... with his...’

Her hands trembled as they slowly rose. Her fingers wrapped around his thick shaft—both hands barely able to encircle it—feeling the heat, the hardness, the veins pulsing under her touch.

She started moving her hands up and down slowly, massaging, stroking, her soft palms gliding along the length.

"Hnngh..." Tianlong groaned above her, the sensation making his cock twitch on her face.

Mira’s mouth opened hesitantly. Her tongue extended, touching one of his balls tentatively.

The taste hit her—salty, musky, purely masculine.

’It’s... so strong...’

She licked again, more deliberately this time, her tongue tracing the curve of the heavy orb.

"Good," Tianlong encouraged, his voice thick with pleasure. "Now suck it. Take it in your mouth."