The Jade Faced Cuck-Chapter 27: Every Drop on Her Body Wasn’t His

Xue Lan lay limp across the bed, a vision of divine ruin. Her hair clung to her cheeks and neck, soaked with sweat. Her thighs twitched faintly, parted wide and splayed carelessly across the oil-stained sheets. Her pussy—used, swollen, visibly gaping—leaked a slow, pulsing stream of cum from the second time Yan Zhuo had flooded her womb. Her belly glistened with sweat. Her nipples were stiff, flushed, still rising with every shallow, trembled breath.

She was motionless but not asleep. Her eyes were half-lidded. Her lips slightly parted. Her body radiated heat. She had been fucked senseless. Twice. And she wasn't done.

Yan Zhuo stood over her, fist wrapped around his cock. It was already hard again.

His shaft still glistened from the last round, coated in slick and cum, veins pulsing, the tip swollen and angry red. He stroked himself slowly, deliberately, as he watched her twitch with overstimulated aftershocks.

Lin Mu knelt at the edge of the bed, close enough to feel the radiating warmth of her used body, far enough to remain beneath them both. His lips were still wet with her taste.

Yan Zhuo's voice came low and cruel. "Hold her legs apart again."

Lin Mu reached up, reverently, and lifted Xue Lan's thighs—fingers trembling as he spread her open one more time.

Her pussy was raw. Red. Gleaming. Her inner lips stuck to each other slightly, then peeled open with a quiet wet sound as her husband held her exposed. Her clit was flushed and swollen, twitching above the stretched opening where cum still leaked in thick dribbles.

Yan Zhuo stepped closer.

He didn't ask for permission.

He aimed.

And started to stroke.

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Lin Mu watched every movement. Yan Zhuo's hand pumped slowly along his shaft. Each stroke built pressure. Every grunt from his throat sent a hot ripple down Lin Mu's spine. He stared as the other man's cock pulsed, head shiny and engorged.

Xue Lan shifted beneath them, chest rising faster now. Her body was still too weak to move—but not too weak to respond.

Then it came.

The first rope of cum arced high, thick and forceful—it splashed across Xue Lan's lower belly, smacking the skin with a wet slap. The second landed directly on her right breast, streaking upward to her collarbone. The third painted her inner thigh, trailing down toward her slick entrance.

More followed.

One across her other nipple—white fluid clinging to the stiff peak.

One over her mouth.

One final, heavy shot splashing her cheek and dripping slowly downward.

Yan Zhuo's groan rumbled through the room as he emptied himself across her body.

His cum was thick. White. Pooled in streaks and globs across her stomach, between her breasts, gliding slowly down her skin in glistening trails. Her thighs were painted. Her navel held a slow swirl of it. Her chin caught a few sticky drops.

She moaned, soft and distant.

"Clean her," Yan Zhuo said, stepping back, letting his cock hang slick and softening. "All of it."

Lin Mu bowed low.

He began with her chest.

His tongue extended, and he licked slowly—broad, reverent strokes from her sternum upward. The cum clung to her skin, warm and bitter. He traced the line between her breasts, kissed the valley, then sucked each nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them until no trace of Yan Zhuo's seed remained.

Her belly was next.

He licked down past her ribs, collecting each line of cum that streaked her body. His tongue circled her navel, dipped inside to clean out the pooled mess, and moved lower still, collecting the drops trailing toward her mound.

Her thighs—her soft, bruised thighs—were painted with streaks that had dripped down from her hips. Lin Mu kissed each bruise, each bite mark. Then his tongue worked along the curves, cleaning until her skin glistened only with sweat, not seed.

Then her face.

The trail that had run down from her cheek to her mouth had begun to dry. Lin Mu kissed her lips first. Then licked slowly upward, collecting every trace, his breath shaking with need and humiliation.

Her mouth opened just enough to accept his tongue.

He kissed her.

Gave her back the taste she had been marked with.

Xue Lan moaned softly against his lips.

And then—finally—he lowered again.

To her pussy.

Still open.

Still leaking from the second fuck. Not freshly filled, but dripping from deep within.

He pressed his tongue flat to her slit. Licked the outer lips first—sucking gently to collect the thin sheen of mixed fluids coating them. Then he slid between, dipping inside, gathering every remaining droplet from the folds he had watched gape around Yan Zhuo's cock.

He cleaned her softly. Patiently. Reverently.

Until no trace remained.

Only the scent.

Only the stretch.

Only the ruin.

Yan Zhuo dressed slowly behind him, adjusting his belt with a casual smirk. "She's all yours now, husband. Until the next one."

Lin Mu didn't look up. He remained kneeling. Mouth to her pussy.

Still licking.

Still moaning.

Still devoted.

The door closed behind Yan Zhuo.

Xue Lan exhaled like she'd just finished a long dream.

And Lin Mu pressed his lips to her folds.

Worshipping the emptiness inside her.