The Sleeping Flower (4)
Hans seemed perfectly content with simply holding Ceres in his arms.
But the Mayor never overlooked the possibility that the boy might get other ideas and try to use it against him. He assigned Hans to a post exactly where he wanted him, and made sure the youth remained firmly within his sight at all times.
In the end, Hans worked the day shift, and when the footsteps of the villagers had faded into the dark of night, the old man and the young one would gather at the cathedral where the sleeping Ceres lay.
“Mmm? Huh?”
With a creak, Hans pushed open the cathedral door and stepped inside. The first thing he saw was the Mayor idly fondling Ceres’s hand.
“Hehe, Mayor, sir.”
“Mm.”
Hans carefully closed the door behind him, glancing outside one last time to make sure no one was around.
“Did you already…?”
“Mm. No.”
“Really? You’re not going to? Then I’ll go first, hehe.”
“…Hmph.”
Hans wasn’t the type to think too deeply. To him, the Mayor’s quiet, piercing gaze probably held no meaning beyond simple lust.
“Should I take all her clothes off?”
With a soft rustle, Ceres’s garments slid away under Hans’s hands. Undressing a woman who lay completely still took quite a while.
“Whoa, Ceres… she’s got more flesh on her than you’d think. It’s not easy getting this off.”
“…Mm. True. But a body like this is a good one.”
“You think so?”
“After holding her, you still ask that?”
“Haha, yeah, I guess. I did fall for her face and tits first, though.”
“As the saying goes, a woman should have just the right amount of softness.”
“Really, huh.”
Two men who were supposed to protect the sleeping saint now stood before her, stripping her naked while casually discussing the female body.
It was an utterly perverse situation. Both of them knew it, yet neither voiced the thought aloud. In fact, the very wrongness of it was clearly fueling their excitement.
“Ugh, there we go…”
Hans lifted Ceres’s arms over his shoulders and pulled her clothes upward. With a silky whisper, her full, heavy breasts spilled free.
“Wow, seriously…”
These were the same breasts he had stared at all day yesterday. He hadn’t just looked—he had sucked on them, bitten them, toyed with her nipples. Yet the moment they came into view again, Hans couldn’t help but swallow hard.
He frantically loosened his pants, shrugged off his clothes, and practically leapt onto the bed.
Slurp. Slurp.
He grabbed one of her breasts—too large for a single hand—and rolled the nipple between his fingers. There was nothing but impatience and haste in the motion. No skill whatsoever.
Tsk. Pathetic.
The Mayor found more than a few things displeasing, but for now he simply watched.
Hans spread the saint’s thighs, positioned himself between them, and aimed his swollen cock at the soft mound between her legs.
“Uh… huh?”
He seemed slightly confused by how dry she was.
Of course he would be. Yesterday the Mayor had taken his time to loosen and wet her thoroughly before letting Hans have his turn.
“…Sigh. Hans, my boy.”
“Eh? W-wait a second…”
“That’s not how it’s done. Come out for a moment.”
The Mayor’s hand settled on Hans’s shoulder.
Naturally, the young man didn’t want to pull out. But the other was the long-time leader of their village, and the sensation yesterday—when the Mayor had sucked her open—had felt completely different. So, dissatisfied but obedient, Hans slowly climbed off the bed.
Thud. Thud.
The old man shed his robe. He wore nothing underneath. His body was gaunt, skin sagging with age. Even climbing onto the bed looked slow and laborious compared to Hans.
“Watch carefully, Hans.”
The elder slipped two fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly, then gently pushed them between the saint’s folds.
“Oh… ohhh.”
As the old man’s hand began to move with a trembling rhythm, Hans’s eyes widened.
A wet sound gradually grew louder from her previously dry pussy. First came the lewd, sticky squelch, squelch, and soon after, the loud, juicy slap-slap of abundant nectar.
Ceres’s sleeping body twitched under the Mayor’s touch. Then the old man withdrew his thin, wrinkled fingers.
He held them up deliberately in front of Hans. The digits glistened with transparent, sticky fluid.
“She’s asleep. If you don’t wet her enough, she’ll tear.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
“Ahem.”
Ignoring Hans, who nodded and approached the bed once more, the Mayor naturally pressed his hips between the saint’s spread thighs.
Hans clicked his tongue and simply stared at Ceres.
“It’s not just about strength.”
“Y-yes.”
“Sounds like nonsense? Just watch.”
To Hans, the Mayor’s cock looked strange. It wasn’t particularly thick, but the slender shaft stood with the rigid tension of an old, hardened tree.
The snake-like glans parted her soft mound and slid inside.
What, it’s the same thing anyway.
It didn’t seem all that different. In fact, the insertion looked rather weak. Hans nearly scoffed.
But then the Mayor lifted Ceres’s waist slightly while still buried inside her, planted his feet beside her hips, and held the position. Hans’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the obscene sight of their joined genitals.
The posture alone made everything feel different.
The old man’s long cock looked even longer. The saint’s plump pussy and round ass appeared even fuller. In this position, even her anus was completely exposed. The Mayor slowly bent his knees, and his long shaft sank deep—schlup—all the way into her cunt.
The saint’s body lay completely still, trapped in an eternal, dreamless slumber. Yet her most intimate places reacted with shameful honesty—twitching, growing wet, and greedily swallowing the intruders.
Schlup. Schlup. Schlup.
The old man’s thrusts were agonizingly slow. Every time he pulled out, his cock glistened with her slick nectar.
Whoa…
To Hans, whose first experience yesterday had been frantic and wild, the greatest pleasure had been the raw slap of flesh against flesh. But the scene unfolding before him now left him inexplicably overwhelmed.
Of course the two of them didn’t match. A wrinkled, sagging old man’s body splitting open the firm, elastic skin of twenty-year-old Ceres. Yet unlike Hans, who had simply violated her sleeping form, the Mayor’s movements made it seem as though Ceres had actually woken up.
“It’s not just about shoving it in and out.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
When the Mayor bent his knees again, his long cock once more pierced all the way through her.
He buried himself to the hilt, then began rotating his hips without pulling out. Squelch. Squelch. The wet sounds of her juices clinging and dripping grew louder with every motion.
Hans couldn’t even imagine how that tight, elastic hole must feel around the old man’s rod.
Despite the utterly vulgar posture and movements, clear precum beaded at the tip of Hans’s cock as he watched. It didn’t take him long to pry open Ceres’s slack mouth and shove his own erection inside.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Ceres’s ass and thighs jiggled nonstop.
Whenever he came, he would pull out, switch positions, and lavish attention on her mouth and upper body. Thanks to the constant healing effect, his lust showed no sign of fading.
“Whoa, look at this, Mayor!”
Ceres’s lower belly was quivering irregularly in time with Hans’s thrusting hips.
“She’s cumming, right? She’s totally cumming, isn’t she?”
“Mm. Slurp.”
The Mayor kneaded her breasts and sucked on her armpit as he answered indifferently.
“Even while asleep, she still cums.”
“The body doesn’t lie.”
“Oh, by the way… Did you take Ceres’s virginity, Mayor?”
“No. Some bastard…”
“It was Dain, wasn’t it?”
Thrust. Thrust. Hans’s hips drove even deeper into Ceres’s pussy, now overflowing with a messy mix of her juices and his cum.
“Serves him right. Strutting around like a big shot just because people call him the Hero…”
“Was he like that? I was more surprised by Zarko.”
“His face was pretty funny, yeah. Oh, speaking of Zarko…”
“What?”
“Couldn’t Zarko have been the one who slept with Ceres?”
“Mm. Since he was also a Hero candidate… A Hero and a Saint? It’s possible.”
“Whoever it was, those bastards. If they knew we were fucking Ceres like this right now, they’d be furious, right?”
“Furious? They’d probably try to kill us.”
“When did you say he was coming back? Dain.”
“Mm. Within a month, he said.”
“Then we should do this every day until then.”
“Hehe. Indeed.”
With the sleeping saint between them, the half-century gap in age between the two men dissolved completely.
Their bond, forged through their shared, twisted lust for Ceres, felt almost natural in its own perverse way.
“It’s a shame she can’t get pregnant.”
“You want to get stabbed to death?”
“If we made a baby, wouldn’t she just become my woman?”
“Hehe. Greed always brings trouble.”
Both of them knew this one month was the only time in their lives they would ever be able to touch a woman like Ceres. So they thrust into her with even greater passion—deeper, harder, more desperately.
While Dain was away, Ceres belonged to them.
Not a single inch of the sleeping saint’s body was left untouched. Every day, the hands of the two men roamed over her without mercy.
The Mayor demonstrated his obscene techniques on her supple flesh, and Hans practiced them like an eager apprentice. The soft sides of her body—places only Dain had ever been allowed to touch in the village—now served as convenient handles, allowing the Mayor and Hans to drive their cocks even deeper and harder.
“What?”
“Mm. Gerta said Dain will be arriving soon.”
At the Mayor’s words, Hans’s face stiffened.
For an entire month they had fucked the saint every single day, countless times. Far from growing tired of her body, he had become completely addicted.
“It’s a shame, but we’ll have to stop. You understand—don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“…Yes…”
Watching Hans let out a long, heavy sigh, the Mayor felt a flicker of unease.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Hans. You’ve enjoyed yourself plenty.”
“…Yes. I have.”
“Good. Then go prepare to greet him.”
Greet?
Hans’s brow furrowed.
They couldn’t enjoy her anymore—so who the hell were they supposed to greet?
As he stared at the Mayor’s retreating back, a single sentence flashed through Hans’s mind.
…Just one last time.
“D-Dain. Slow down a little… Huh? Wha—?”
The Mayor, who had grabbed Dain’s arm just outside the cathedral doors, froze in horror at the sight beyond.
“H-Hans…!”
You fucking idiot!
He had warned him so clearly, yet this brainless fool had ruined everything.
Hans, who hadn’t even managed to pull his pants up from around his thighs, was raising his hands toward the Hero in a desperate plea for forgiveness.
“N-no, Dain. This isn’t—”
Click.
The Mayor had grabbed Dain’s arm without thinking, but the old man’s strength was nowhere near enough to stop him.
Shing.
The Hero’s skin had flushed red with rage, veins bulging across his body. Yet the sound of the sword being drawn was terrifyingly cold.
