Night Raid on Aunt's Residence
Wang Yue's hands moved gently, caressing Chen Rong's perfectly handful-sized breasts, his fingers slipping between them to pinch the swollen, erect little nipples at their peaks, rubbing them lightly with each motion.
Chen Rong bit her silver teeth hard, desperately holding back the pleasure to keep from moaning aloud.
But her body's reactions were beyond her control. She managed to seal her upper mouth, but the little mouth below contracted involuntarily, spurting out a gush of clear, sticky fluid.
Xue Yan, watching from the side, noticed and laughed. "Son, stop teasing already. Look at your aunt's saucy pussy—it's drooling for you. Hurry up and fuck her!"
Wang Yue knew his aunt's body was already primed after watching the live show of him and his Yan-mom just now. The key was to make her as addicted to his big dick as Yan-mom was. As for foreplay, he could play with that after conquering her.
He knelt between Chen Rong's legs, pressing his cock against her already slick butterfly pussy.
The moment the scorching, rough big dick touched her delicate pussy lips, Chen Rong shuddered uncontrollably. Her tender pussy clenched and parted, squirting another stream of lewd juice.
Wang Yue was pleased with her reaction. He reached down with his right hand, thumb pressing his glans against her pussy entrance, pushing down with slight force.
The egg-sized head forced apart her tight labia, inching bit by bit into Chen Rong's butterfly pussy.
Xue Yan watched Wang Yue's cock—the one that had belonged solely to her—slide into another woman's pussy. A pang of sourness hit her, much like when Wang Jing had married Su Mengyan all those years ago.
No, I'm not jealous. What I feel for him is pure maternal love, plus a physical relationship. Nothing to do with romance. I only love Wang Jing.
Xue Yan desperately convinced herself, as if only that could dispel the guilt of betrayal.
To distract herself, she focused on where Wang Yue and Chen Rong joined. His massive glans was now fully buried inside her pussy.
Recalling her own first time, Xue Yan quickly reminded him, "Son, go slow. Let your aunt adjust before thrusting deeper."
Even without her warning, Wang Yue wouldn't rush. He realized his aunt's pussy was even tighter than Yan-mom's.
Her pussy walls gripped his glans like a vise. Forget thrusting deeper—even pulling out would take effort.
"Mom, you've both given birth, so why are your pussies still so tight?" Wang Yue couldn't help asking.
"Pah! Ungrateful little brat, blaming us now?" Xue Yan huffed. "It's not our pussies that are tight—it's your big dick that's too damn huge."
Wang Yue quickly grinned. "Mom, I'm complimenting you. The tighter your pussies, the better it feels when I fuck you."
"Then you're in for a treat," Xue Yan laughed. "For a cock as big as yours, no woman's pussy in the world would feel loose."
As mother and son bantered dirtily, Chen Rong—bound and helpless, eyes squeezed shut as she endured the fucking—felt entirely differently.
Wang Yue's cock was simply enormous. Even with just the head inside, it filled her like never before, stretching her pussy to the point of slight pain.
But compared to the overwhelming pleasure, that pain was nothing.
A woman in her prime, three years without sex, reduced to occasional self-relief—setting aside her relationship to Wang Yue and the fact of her rape, this big dick was a godsend. Deep down, she craved him to push deeper.
Feeling her pussy loosen slightly, lubricated by fresh floods of nectar, Wang Yue tested another thrust.
Advance and pause, advance and pause—it took a full five minutes before he finally hilted. But then he realized the problem: his glans pressed against her cervix, yet a full quarter of his cock remained outside.
"Mom, Aunt's pussy is shallower than yours," Wang Yue grumbled. Not going balls-deep was a real letdown.
Xue Yan laughed. "Shallow's no issue. Just fuck deeper—straight into her womb. She'll die of pleasure."
She spoke from experience, utterly confident.
Though tempted, Wang Yue held back. Compared to busty, thick-hipped, durable Yan-mom, his aunt was far more delicate. What Yan-mom loved might break her.
This was their first time. If she couldn't handle it and developed a fear of his cock, the consequences would be dire.
Instead, he pulled back a bit, then slowly thrust in again.
Chen Rong had fully adjusted now. The pain was gone, leaving only the bliss of complete fullness.
His movement sent her soul soaring. In her mind, she screamed like Xue Yan: Fuck me, fuck me hard!
But she only dared think it, never voice it.
Wang Yue, ever perceptive, picked up speed without prompting. His big dick pistoned faster, harder, ravaging her tight channel. The rough coronal ridge scraped her inner walls with every pass, nearly driving her mad. She clenched her jaw to stifle her cries.
Such a massive cock, fucked so viciously—even a seasoned woman couldn't endure. For Chen Rong, three years celibate, it was over after fewer than three hundred strokes. Her snowy skin flushed pink with ecstasy, orgasm imminent.
Then Xue Yan struck, releasing Chen Rong's sealed acupoints, restoring her freedom.
Instead of shoving Wang Yue away, Chen Rong flung her arms around him, her slender legs wrapping his waist. Though not as plump as Xue Yan's, her ass was round, perky, seductive—thrusting up to meet every pounding stroke.
Moments later, she lost control, unleashing a long moan. Her muscles tensed, pussy clamping his cock like iron as yin essence gushed from her core.
Wang Yue grunted, his cock swelling. Glans locked against her cervix, he unleashed wave after wave of scalding semen.
Long after, Chen Rong descended from her peak, body going limp as she collapsed onto the bed.
"See, big sis? I wasn't lying. Our Yue'er's big dick is incredible, right?" Xue Yan teased with a smile.
Chen Rong's face burned crimson. Wordless, she shoved Wang Yue off, letting his softening cock slip from her pussy. She silently grabbed her discarded dress and slipped it on.
"Big sis, that's no way to be. Little sis shared her treasure with you, let you get fucked silly—and no thanks?" Xue Yan kept smiling.
Ignoring her, Chen Rong dressed and stood—only to stumble. The orgasm had been too intense; even with her martial skill, her legs wobbled.
Seeing this, Wang Yue's heart skipped. His aunt was timid, but everyone had limits. If she snapped and confessed to Grandma or Mom, he was done for.
Xue Yan, unconcerned, said, "Big sis, take a look at this."
She tapped the communicator on her wrist. A 3D hologram flickered to life before them—the exact moment her acupoints released, Chen Rong eagerly hugging Wang Yue.
Chen Rong jolted, then walked out silently. Xue Yan called after her, "Big sis, head home first. Yue'er will visit you tomorrow night."
The moment she left Xue Yan's place, Chen Rong unleashed her lightness skill, racing home and locking herself in her bedroom. Hands over her face, she sobbed.
Tonight's events shattered her. She couldn't process it, and with no backbone, crying was all she could do to vent.
After a while, she felt a strangeness below. Looking down, Wang Yue's semen leaked from her pussy, soaking her panties and inner thighs.
That sight reignited memories of her explosive orgasm. She stared blankly, entranced.
Wang Yue watched her leave, worried. "Mom, even with the recording, what if Aunt goes all-in and spills everything?"
"Relax. Even without it, she wouldn't," Xue Yan assured, smiling. Her grasp of human nature far outstripped inexperienced Wang Yue.
"Why?"
"You know your aunt—she lacks the guts for mutual destruction. Besides, you don't realize your cock's power. After one taste, her body will crave it, even if her mind resists. How could she ruin you? She dotes on you like her own son; that alone stays her hand."
Wang Yue relaxed, then asked, "Then why record it?"
"To threaten her, duh," Xue Yan laughed. "She's an ostrich—shrinks from everything. Even addicted, she'd never come to you or open the door. Use this, and she'll have to."
"Mom, you're evil. But I love it," Wang Yue grinned.
"If you love it, go tomorrow. Strike while the iron's hot—conquer her completely with that big dick!" Xue Yan gripped his re-hardening cock.
"If I go to Aunt's, what about you? Come with?"
"Nah." Xue Yan sighed bitterly. "My period's coming tomorrow. I'd just watch you fuck someone else—too miserable."
"Your period?" Wang Yue blinked, then got it.
"Good son, enough talk. Fuck Mom now." She stroked his cock. "Can't have you for days—make it up to me tonight. Fuck me lots!"
Wang Yue obliged eagerly. No bed needed—he positioned behind her as she braced the bed, ass high. His big dick slammed into her dripping saucy pussy.
…
At Xue Yan's insistence, Wang Yue fucked her seven times that night, leaving her too spent to twitch. Only then did he stop.
The ecstatic dual cultivation rocketed his realm.
Xue Yan stayed at Spirit Condensation peak—no upgrade.
Neither fretted. Breaking from Spirit Condensation to Earth Palace was qualitative, a massive hurdle second only to Heavenly Origin to Mortal Shedding. Even divine dual cultivation couldn't rush it.
Next day, Wang Yue attended the Qi Condensation drill field as usual. His realm far exceeded it, but his meteoric rise defied explanation—he'd play along for now.
Once they all dual cultivate with me, no more hiding.
The thought startled him. Just days ago, he'd resisted. Now?
"Bro, what're you thinking?" Wang Xin'er approached his daze.
"N-nothing." Wang Yue tensed. His twin sometimes sensed his thoughts. If she ratted to Mom...
Should I take her down? A dark impulse hit.
Xue Yan had corrupted him.
"Bro, your mind's full of naughty thoughts?" Wang Xin'er frowned suspiciously. She couldn't read specifics, but he felt scheming.
Wang Yue startled. "No naughty thoughts! Kids shouldn't guess wildly!"
"Kids? You're barely older!" She pouted. "Sigh, why didn't Mom do a C-section?"
Wang Yue chuckled—her go-to line when he pulled rank. A C-section would've made them equals.
Cultivation was dull, but Wang Yue's group—foundation-built from childhood—were used to it. Sparring and girl-talk relaxed them.
True tedium was nightly meditation: silent, still, testing endurance.
At lunch, they griped about it. Even habituated, inner arts bored them.
Listening, Wang Yue marveled at his dual cultivation: no tedium, pure bliss, skyrocketing power.
Sharing it would free them from this hell.
Yeah, just freeing them—not lusting after their bodies!
His mind wandered, resistance to Xue Yan's idea fading, excuses piling up.
Afternoon, Wang Yue tagged along with Wang Xin'er to the Body Tempering field.
Like Spirit Condensers guiding Qi Condensers, they mentored juniors.
Xin'er went routinely; Wang Yue, starved for his little cuties after "years" apart, tagged along.
Five girls: youngest 14, Wang Yue's littlest sister Wang Yarou, Xue Yan's daughter.
Then 13-year-old Wang Zhiting, third aunt Huang Yuexiang's girl.
Liu Xinru's daughters: 13-year-old Wang Qianqian, 12-year-old Wang Shanshan.
Tang Yue'rou's 10-year-old Wang Jingjing.
With five elders and eight at Qi Condensation—that was the entire Wang family now.
Wang Yue's two aunts had married out.
His two sisters and two cousins were marriageable, but post-disaster, Jinling's three families lacked males. No alliances possible; per pacts, no downgrading. Other cities' peers coveted Wang beauties and profound arts, but Wang Yalan and kin opposed—deal dead.
They came afternoons; mornings were culture classes. Wang Yarou's group differed, studying academics first.
Era didn't demand literate warriors—normals handled that—but modern cultivators read. Pre-high-school equivalent, mandatory. Third aunt Huang Yuexiang, famed talent, taught.
Geniuses Wang Yue and Xin'er finished early.
The cuties swarmed, greeting sweetly: "Brother! Xin'er-sis (Uncle! Xin'er-auntie)!"
"Hey, little ones. Miss me?" Wang Yue waved, grinning.
"Of course! But bro, I'm 14—not little!" Wang Yarou hugged his arm, spoiled. She adored him.
A year younger than Xin'er but taller, more developed—her soft breast squished his arm.
Nice handful. Bigger than Xin'er's.
Wang Zhiting smiled elegantly—ladylike, inheriting mom's beauty and brains.
Wang Qianqian balled tiny fists at Xin'er, eager for "challenge" (trouble).
Her guts outsized her; she'd tweak even Great-Grandma Liu Ruoshi's whiskers.
Shanshan beside her looked innocent.
But Wang Yue knew: scheming imp, puppeteering sis to misdeeds, dodging blame. Pit-sis pro; backstage boss material.
Jingjing hung back, shy crybaby. Clash words? Tears. Family baby, Qianqian's sole no-go.
Wang Yue's heart swelled—too long apart.
Yet no distance; secret realm days, he'd pined for these women exclusively post-cultivation. Separation deepened bonds.
They drilled: Body Tempering low—even Jingjing's 2nd layer packed punch. Pre-revival champs? No match. Martial-non gulf unbridgeable.
No Jade Breaking Palm yet; basics, yellow-tier arts—foundations.
Wang Yue and Xin'er aced them, mentoring easy.
Post-round, Qianqian challenged Xin'er—got spanked, as expected.
Undaunted, thrilled: "Next time too, Xin'er-auntie!"
Liu Ruoshi admired her fearlessness: "Qianqian's talent trails Yue'er and Xin'er, but her relentless heart may eclipse them."
No challenge to Wang Yue? Qianqian: "Auntie and Little Uncle same age/realm, but he's stronger. Beat her first."
Xin'er'd smacked her butt often; no change.
Dusk fell post-lesson. They skipped Qi field, bid cuties farewell, returned home.
Wang life: monotonous. Save monthly rest, "home-field" loop.
Pre-three-years-ago? Casual cultivation, play freely.
Disaster left women/children; to survive, Liu Ruoshi and allies mandated rigor.
Post-dinner, time early, Wang Yue pondered alone.
Long isolation bred loneliness-hate, tedium-loathing. He yearned pre-disaster bliss for all.
Easy/hard: restore strength to pre-crisis—multi-Heavenly Origin, or a Return to Truth boss.
Cultivation? No shortcuts.
Core Mysterious Jade Technique: profound upper. Return to Truth? Near-impossible.
Improve it? Reborn, but past-life toolman—not bigshot.
Some insights, but Yin-Yang Dao clashed with Mysterious Jade.
New arts? Dual cultivation—powerful.
More "unspeakable" reasons.
Yin-Yang profound—not mere dual cultivation.
But: inexperience limited him to Pure Yang-based dual arts; thunder-rebirth scared him—solo yin/yang defied Dao. Women's yin art? High-realm thunder risk?
Martial arts? Separate system. Yin-Yang "natural"—no forms; self-derived.
Exposure to strong arts? He'd derive killers.
But no exposure.
Inexperience again!
Hours later, no answers but dual cultivation. He quit thinking.
Nine past; he headed out.
Xue Yan banned visits, but Wang Yue wasn't dense. First stop: her place.
No door left, but he entered easy—her smart system now listed him co-owner; face-scan entry.
Xue Yan meditated on bed. Surprised: "Why're you here?"
"To keep you company." He sat, arm around her curves. "Mom, so diligent—still cultivating."
"Cultivation's against the current—not advancing is retreating. No slacking." Xue Yan echoed Liu Ruoshi's mantra.
"Why bother? A year of bitter cultivation won't match one fuck from me. Just lie back and power up—easy!" Wang Yue leered, groping her breast through nightie.
"Oh..." She moaned, swatting his hand. "Stinky brat, knowing I can't these days, still teasing? Rotten heart!"
He knew periods amped lust—cruel tease. He behaved. "Then chat."
"No chat—do your duty. Conquer her fully!" Xue Yan pumped him. "Son, go!"
Wang Yue chuckled. What mom cheers son fucking aunt?
"Not rushing. Stay longer."
"Good son, I get it—but go. Staying makes me ache more." She near-begged.
"Ah, that's why? Thought you didn't love me—worried half to death." He feigned relief.
"Brat, drop the act—I know you." She eyed his tented pants. "Cock rock-hard—go fuck your hot aunt!"
"Leaving for real." He stood, bulge obvious—no hiding from her.
"Scram!" She shooed like flies, then smiled sweetly post-exit.
Brat leaves me itchy everywhere, miserable—but first to comfort me? Worth every bit.
His care sweetened her immensely, like young love with Wang Jing...
She startled. Am I falling for this punk?
No—mother-son only, body needs. Won't betray Jing!
Self-hypnosis calmed her. No cultivation; she slept.
Dreams: moonlit bliss with a man—Wang Jing-like, but shorter, younger, handsomer...
Leaving Xue Yan, Wang Yue beelined Chen Rong's—no door left.
Communicator out; dialed her.
Chen Rong: distracted all day. Drills? Half-hearted, mind replaying last night: his big dick ravaging Xue Yan, then her—blissful pounding.
That ecstasy lingered; pussy wet even now.
Nightfall: more turmoil. Xue Yan'd send him tonight.
Terror: locked every door post-return, skipped dinner.
Still unsafe; she curled in bed's corner.
He won't come. Yan just talked big.
Yeah—addicted to his... thing. Won't share; wants it all night in her saucy... spot.
Relief... tinged loss.
Deny it? Futile. Last night's "rape" thrilled—soul-flying highs unknown, even from husband (five kids notwithstanding).
Past orgasms paled; his glans battering her core? Insane bliss.
Lost in reverie—
Ring~~
Communicator buzzed—loud in silence. Heart jumped.
Caller: Wang Yue.
He came. What now?
Terror surged.
Wang Yue scared her not—even rape was pleasure > fear.
True horror: morals. Married woman, his blood aunt—adultery, incest.
Weak, traditional her: unacceptable.
Yet hand betrayed, answering.
"Aunt, why no door? Open up—let me in." Wang Yue's voice crackled.