Chapter 75. Another's Hole
Another's Hole
And finally, Lucian's hand reached her foot.
Madame Blanc's foot was a work of art in itself.
Freed from the confines of socks and shoes, it rested elegantly over the edge of the sofa.
The baby-smooth heel, untouched by calluses, blushed a delicate pink, while the graceful arch of her sole curved so enticingly that he longed to run his tongue along it.
Lucian lifted her foot onto his palm.
His gaze traveled naturally from the sole to the top of her foot.
It was as if a thin veil of glass had been draped over it—translucent and immaculate.
Beneath the pale skin, the delicate ridges of her bones traced a gentle path from her toes to her ankle. The fragile contours of those slender bones, so delicate they might crumble under his grip, formed a fragile, transparent sculpture that completed the shape of her foot.
But what captivated him most were the blue veins embroidered across that white canvas.
Her skin was so thin that the veins beneath shimmered through in faint shades of lavender.
Like icy streams winding beneath snow-covered fields, those blue vessels meandered between the delicate bones.
"Haa... haa..."
Lucian pressed his thumb against one of those veins and slowly dragged it down.
The suppressed blood flow surged back, causing the vein to pulse visibly beneath his touch. The rapid throbbing betrayed just how fast Madame Blanc's heart was racing.
A flawless expanse of skin—not a speck of dust, not a single blemish.
That very purity, contrasted with the crimson polish on her toenails, exuded an obscene allure.
And then, the five perfectly aligned toes beneath the arch.
Her big toe was adorably plump, while the others tapered delicately, like a string of tiny beads.
As if entranced, Lucian slipped his index finger between them.
Swoosh. Slip.
The soft flesh between her toes, the faint dampness of sweat lingering there.
When he spread her toes apart and pressed firmly into the center of her sole—
"Hng...!"
A stifled moan escaped Madame Blanc's lips.
Her toes clenched tightly around his finger.
A reaction so sensitive—though not her sex, it felt as though he were touching her there.
Lucian barely restrained the urge to press his lips to that translucent foot, to lick between her toes.
His pants were already at their limit.
His swollen cock throbbed violently, and the clear pre-cum leaking from his slit dripped down, soaking his underwear. The contrast between his scorching arousal and the cold, sticky dampness jolted his senses even as it dragged him deeper into depravity.
'This is madness... I'm betraying Gerard.'
A chill ran down his spine.
The image of the door bursting open and Gerard storming in, eyes blazing, flashed through his mind.
"What the hell are you doing to my wife?!"
The imagined shout tightened around his heart, but the thrill of transgression refused to let him stop.
His mind, overwhelmed by guilt, seemed to have forgotten Gerard's own proposition from the night before.
With trembling hands, Lucian moved higher, sliding his palm up Madame Blanc's thigh.
The thin, sheer skirt covering her sex only served to fuel his imagination.
His hand settled over her mound.
Through the fabric, he could feel the sparse, soft curls beneath, brushing against his palm.
Even visually, it was unmistakable—the dark shadow against her pale skin, the neatly trimmed triangle of hair slightly lifting the sheer fabric.
And beneath it, the outline of her pussy.
The plump labia, tightly sealed, parted slightly in the middle, the cleft clearly visible through the fabric.
Lucian dragged his finger slowly along that seam.
Swipe.
"Haaah..."
Madame Blanc let out a small, lingering sigh.
This was even more obscene than touching bare skin.
The smoothness of the fabric, the softness of the curls beneath, the yielding firmness of her lips—
When he pressed down, they gave like a damp sponge before springing back.
The heat radiating from deep within was so intense it seemed to burn through the fabric.
'She's wet... I can smell her.'
Even through her clothes, the faint, musky scent of her arousal teased his nose.
He didn't dare spread her legs or push aside her skirt to plunge his fingers inside. If he did, he knew he'd lose control completely.
'Just a little more... Then I'll stop.'
Compromising with himself, Lucian rubbed her mound a few more times, reluctant to pull away.
Time was slipping away. The fear that a maid—or worse, Gerard or Rachel—might walk in gnawed at him.
He hadn't even locked the door.
With great reluctance, he withdrew his hand and gripped Madame Blanc's shoulder.
"Madame Blanc... Isela, wake up."
"......"
No response. Only her long lashes fluttered faintly—she was either still pretending to sleep or had truly fainted. Either way, her silence was tacit permission for him to continue.
Lucian shook her shoulder gently.
The pliant flesh beneath his grip was soft as dough, reigniting the flames of his desire.
'Ah... Madame Blanc, why must you test me like this...?'
But curiosity about the rest of her body overwhelmed him.
That backside Gerard always boasted about—
Driven by impulse, Lucian tightened his grip and flipped her onto her stomach.
"Mmm..."
Her body turned limply, her ample chest pressing into the leather sofa as her heavy rear rose into the air.
Lucian's gaze traveled from the plump curves of her ass up the line of her spine.
Her shoulder blades jutted out delicately, tragically beautiful. His palm glided down her back, tracing the deep valley of her spine through the sheer blouse.
Past the narrow dip of her waist, over the flaring curve of her hips—
"Haa..."
And finally, his hands seized her ass in full.
The sheer volume was more than he could hold in one hand.
Like well-kneaded dough, it yielded under his grip, molding to his fingers. He squeezed and kneaded the pliant flesh roughly.
"Ah... Nn... Hng!"
As her ass was manhandled, stifled moans burst from Madame Blanc's lips. She buried her face into the sofa, arching her back to push her rear out further.
Unable to resist, Lucian grabbed the hem of her sheer skirt and yanked it up to her waist.
The full expanse of her bare ass was exposed.
No underwear—just bare skin.
He pressed his thumbs into the cleft of her cheeks and pried them apart.
Squish.
The white globes parted, revealing the secret hole hidden deep within.
"...!"
Her anus.
A small, tightly furrowed pink hole, its delicate wrinkles gathered at the center, tinged with the faintest brown.
A place never meant to be seen—perhaps not even by her own husband.
Utterly defenseless, exposed—it looked even more obscene than her pussy.
"Hih...!"
As the cold air touched the sensitive flesh, Madame Blanc's body jerked sharply.
A sharp inhale escaped her lips—
A mix of shock, shame, and perhaps... anticipation?
Lucian didn't miss it. He stared closer.
The visual stimulation was overwhelming.
The stretched rim of a married woman's asshole, pulled taut by the spread cheeks.
The sphincter at its center pulsed faintly under his heated gaze, contracting and relaxing rhythmically—
Like a living creature, like a tiny mouth greeting him.
The obscene twitching was unbearable.
Though he hadn't used a cleaning spell, the area was impeccably maintained.
'Has Gerard used this hole too?'
Lucian stared, transfixed.
The reality of what he was doing—spreading his friend's wife's ass, staring at her exposed hole—
The sheer depravity of it sent a violent thrill up his spine.
His cock strained against his pants, leaking relentlessly.
The urge to free himself and plunge into that twitching hole was overwhelming.
Just imagining how that tight, clinging ring would feel around him threatened to snap his last shreds of restraint.
"Isela... Your hole is dancing."
Lucian murmured, spellbound—
And then, his rationality shattered.
He cast [Clean].
(Images omitted)