Chapter 639: The Dragon Claims (r-18)

He pushed forward.

Excruciatingly slow... and it was the most deliberate, merciless claiming Roxanne has ever felt.

The broad, flushed

crown—angry

plum, slick with the mingled evidence of her worship—pressed against her weeping entrance. Roxanne’s outer petals, already plump and darkly flushed from hours of aching need, began to yield in slow, obscene surrender.

The massive head forced those pink pentals apart wider and wider until the delicate flesh stretched into a shining, paper-thin ring of strained scarlet that clung to him like a second skin, trembling on the edge of breaking.

Her breath shattered.

Her eyes flew open, huge and glassy.

Her mouth dropped in a silent, perfect O of shock as the head began to breach her.

The moment of entry was pure,

profane

poetry.

With a wet, audible

pop

, the thickest part of the crown forced its way inside. Her pussy lips stretched to their absolute limit, blanching white at the edges before blooming back into a furious, glistening crimson.

A powerful burst of her molten nectar exploded outward around the invading head, splashing against his shaft and cascading in heavy, shining rivers down over his heavy balls.

Her entrance fluttered wildly around the fat crown—stretched into a perfect, quivering ring that gripped him with greedy desperation.

The instant the head slipped fully past her

threshold,

something inside her ignited. A single brush of his fingers along her hip

unleashed

a white-hot flood of ecstasy through every nerve. What should have been pain transmuted instantly into liquid rapture.

Her walls, already rippling, began to contract and milk him in deep, hungry spasms, pulling him deeper even as they fought to accommodate his size.

It no longer hurt.

It felt like heaven splitting her open and remaking her from the inside.

"Hhhhnnng—oh—oh

gods—!"

Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails biting deep through fabric as the first thick inch sank into her.

Her cunt clenched violently around the invading shaft—silky, furnace-hot walls rippling and sucking in rhythmic waves, trying to devour more of him even while stretched to their breaking point. She could feel everything:

every heavy vein

, every ridge, every subtle pulse dragging along nerves that had never been awakened before.

The fullness was already devastating, and he was barely inside.

Phei’s free hand glided up her body, claiming one heavy breast, his thumb circling the aching peak before his mouth descended on the other.

He drew the stiff nipple deep between his lips, sucking hard, tongue lashing and swirling as his fingers pinched and rolled its twin. The

dual

assault—his hot mouth devouring her breast while his touch poured raw pleasure into her—made her cunt gush fresh waves of cream around the thick cock splitting her open.

Another

inch.

Her spine arched clean off the bed in a perfect, trembling bow. A broken, animal wail tore from her throat. Jonathan had never reached these depths. Jonathan had never filled her. Jonathan had been nothing.

Another

inch.

And

another.

Phei never took his eyes from her face—watching every flicker of shock melt into rapturous devotion. Her pussy

gripped

him with ferocious tightness, bordering on pain for him, while her nectar flowed endlessly, soaking the sheets and coating his swinging balls in warm, glossy trails.

She was taking him so beautifully.

Yet still, she could not take all of him.

He felt the soft, resistant kiss of her cervix against the head.

More than half his massive length remained outside—thick, veined, and shining with the creamy evidence of her surrender.

He stopped.

Held

perfectly

still.

Let her feel the impossible fullness of what she had already accepted—and the terrifying promise of what still waited.

The sight was devastatingly obscene.

Half his cock had

vanished

inside her conquered depths. The other half rose proud and brutal outside her, glistening with her essence. Her

puffy

lips were stretched into a thin, trembling scarlet ring around his girth, a creamy white froth already forming at the junction where her body met his.

Thick strands of her desire juice dripped steadily from the stretched opening, sliding down his balls and pooling messily on Jonathan’s sheets.

"Too—too big—" Roxanne gasped, tears of overwhelming bliss spilling from her eyes. "You’re too much—I can’t—"

"You’re doing so

beautifully,"

he murmured against her nipple, voice low and reverent, before sucking harder, teeth grazing just enough to make her cry out. "Mother-in-law."

His hand slipped between them.

Two of his fingers found her swollen

pearl

and began slow, firm circles—each stroke sending fresh lightning bolts of amplified pleasure straight into her core. Her cunt spasmed violently around the half-buried cock, another hot flood jetting out around his shaft.

And then he began to move.

Slow. Deep. Devastating.

He

withdrew

with agonizing patience until only the fat, flared crown remained inside her—watching her stretched entrance cling desperately, puffy lips dragging outward in a glossy, cream-coated ring that refused to release him.

Then he pressed forward again, feeding her another thick inch with the same merciless control.

Each thrust

produced

lush, filthy sounds—wet, rhythmic

schlick... schlorp... schlick

—as her creamy nectar frothed white around the half of him she could take, thick bubbles of her essence bubbling out with every withdrawal.

Phei never let his mouth or hands rest.

While his hips worked in that slow, worshipful rhythm, his lips moved between her bouncing breasts—sucking, licking, gently biting the stiff peaks—while his fingers continued their relentless worship of her clit in tight, slick circles.

Every touch from him transformed the brutal stretch into pure, soul-shattering ecstasy.

Her cunt burned with pleasure, walls rippling and milking him in frantic, greedy waves, creaming harder and wetter with every single stroke.

She was no longer being fucked.

She was being

reborn.

"Hhhhnnng—oh—oh

God—oh God oh God—!"

Her words shattered into raw, animal screams.

"Haaaah—!

Hnnng—! Aaaahhh—!"

Her heavy breasts bounced and slapped wildly with every thrust, nipples glistening with his saliva. Her thighs shook violently around his waist, full ass cheeks rippling and bouncing against the mattress each time he drove deeper.

Powerful jets of her release sprayed out around his pistoning cock, drenching his balls, his thighs, and Jonathan’s sheets in shameless, glistening

arcs.

Phei maintained a devastating rhythm—long, dragging withdrawals that left her entrance fluttering and gaping around the crown of his cock then followed by powerful, grinding

thrusts

that forced her cunt to stretch open anew.

Every thick vein dragged along her fluttering walls. Every thrust kissed her cervix with possessive, soul-stirring pressure. Her depths creamed heavier with every stroke, rich white rings of froth building around the half of his cock she could take, her nectar jetting in messy bursts with each deep invasion.

He

fucked

her with deliberate, worshipful savagery—each thrust a sacred claim on newly conquered territory, each lush

schlorp

a hymn declaring that her cunt was finally being honored on her husband’s bed.

And Roxanne took every slow, stretching

thrust

with quaking thighs, bouncing breasts, flooding core, and broken, ecstatic screams—her body surrendering completely to the dragon claiming her, while his mouth and hands continued to venerate her like the living goddess she had become.

Jonathan could only watch.

Helpless.

Hollowed.

Destroyed.

He watched his wife’s once-private cunt stretch obscenely around another man’s massive cock.

Watched her face twist in ecstasy he had never once coaxed from her.

Watched her body move with Phei’s rhythm—hips rising greedily to meet every thrust, back arching sharply, legs locking tighter and tighter around his waist as if terrified he might ever stop.

She was not merely taking it.

She was

fucking

him back. Actively.

Hungrily.

Chasing every inch she could take with rolling hips and desperate little lifts of her ass.

The woman he had beaten into silent, broken submission for twenty years was now grinding her dripping heat onto another man’s cock like a starving devotee at the altar.