Chapter 559 - Overwhelmed Virgin Elder
GASPPP!?
The two elders holding Fanxue’s legs felt it before they saw it.
Her thighs began to shake.
Not the fine, anxious trembling of a woman bracing for something — the deep, uncontrolled shaking of legs that had received a signal from somewhere below the brain and were responding to it without asking permission. Her soft inner thighs quivered against the elders’ forearms, her round hips rolling weakly in the water, her body trying to adjust to the impossible mathematics of twelve inches of cock buried in a cunt that had been closed for two hundred years.
Elder Mengsha looked at the visible bulge below Fanxue’s navel.
At the clear, obscene dome pressing upward through the soft skin of her belly, the outline of his cockhead pushing against her from the inside like a fist through wet cloth.
She said nothing.
Her jaw remained tight.
Then Tianlong pulled back — a long, slow, devastating drag that brought the ridge of his cockhead scraping along Fanxue’s front wall — and slammed forward again.
PAH!
"AAANGH~!! A-ANCESTOR~!! YOUR — YOUR JADE PILLAR IS — HNGH~!! IT IS SPLITTING ME IN HALF~!!"
The words came out shredded, a cultivation maiden’s formal vocabulary disintegrating in real time under the pressure of sensation that formal vocabulary had not been designed to address. Her hands flew out, grabbed the pool edge behind her, fingers clawing at the carved stone.
PAH! PAH! PAHHH!
"KYAAAH~!! SLOW — ANCESTOR PLEASE — I CANNOT — HIEEKK~!!"
He did not slow.
He lifted her legs from the elders’ arms, hooked both thick thighs over his own shoulders, and folded her body into a mating press with the efficient geometry of a man who had done this in enough variations to know exactly which angle produced which result. Her legs pressed toward her own shoulders. Her round, soft belly compressed between them, the fat of it jiggling with each impact.
Her hairy pussy stretched upward to receive him at a vertical angle.
The lips pulled wide with every outward drag — dark pink, raw, the tight ring of her entrance deformed around his shaft, her dark pubic hair matted flat against her mound with the blood-tinged water and her own leaked arousal. On every inward slam, the lips folded inward, accepting the brutal width, her belly dome pulsing with the impact as the cockhead battered her cervix.
PAH! PAH! PAAH! PHACCK!
"NNOONGHHH~!! A-ANCESTOR~!! YOUR DIVINE JADE PILLAR~!! THIS HUMBLE ONE’S — HAAIYAANGH~!! — THIS DISCIPLE’S INNER SANCTUM CANNOT~!!"
The other female elders watched from the pool edges.
The broad-hipped elder’s hand had come up involuntarily to cover her own mouth. Her large brown nipples were visibly stiff above the water line. Her thighs were pressed together with the focused tension of a woman managing involuntary responses and doing so with diminishing success.
The slender bare-pussy elder had taken two unconscious steps closer to the pool’s center.
She stopped when she realized. Did not step back.
’[Sect Master Yaolan — Internal]’
She stood waist-deep in pink water and watched the youngest elder get destroyed.
Her hand was at her own throat. She did not know when it had gotten there.
Fanxue’s screams bounced off the stone walls, high and broken and getting progressively more incoherent as each thrust dismantled another layer of her composure. Her soft belly jiggled obscenely with every impact, the fat of her abdomen rippling outward from his cock bulge the way water ripples from a dropped stone. The visible dome of him inside her had not diminished. If anything, with the downward press of the mating position, it was more pronounced — a hard, moving fist-shape beneath the soft skin of her lower stomach, tracking upward with each thrust, retreating, advancing.
Seven inches.
That was what Yaolan had known. What her master had carried between his legs in the years when she had allowed him access, not from desire, not from choice, but from the cold calculation of a woman who understood that a sect master needed the upper-hand in every resource negotiation and sometimes resources came in the form of an older man’s investment.
She had endured it. She had not enjoyed it. She had taken what she needed from the exchange and ended the arrangement the moment it became a liability.
Seven inches had felt like a great deal.
She looked at the twelve inches driving in and out of Fanxue’s ruined hairy cunt and felt, for the first time in four hundred years, genuinely humbled.
Not politically. Not cultivationally.
’Physically.’
Her pussy clenched under the water. She was appalled at herself. She was also, she noted with the brutal self-honesty that four centuries of cultivation had made unavoidable, very wet.
Tianlong leaned down.
His mouth found Fanxue’s left tit.
He sucked the small pink nipple between his teeth, tongue swirling over the stiffened peak, and simultaneously grabbed both her heavy mounds in his palms, dragging them downward, using the grip to anchor her body against his upward thrusts instead of letting her slide up the pool edge and away from him.
She screamed.
"HNNGH~!! DON’T — ANCESTOR~!! IF YOU PULL THEM LIKE THAT — OUNGH~!! — I WILL — MY CHEST WILL —"
He bit.
Not hard enough to break skin. Hard enough to make her cultivation base spike gold and pink in an involuntary flash that lit the steam around them.
PAH! PAH! PAAH! PAAAH!
"AAANGHH~~!! HAAIYAANGH~!! I CANNOT~!! YOUR DIVINE PILLAR IS TOO LONG~!! IT IS HITTING SOMEWHERE — SOMEWHERE DEEP — HNNGHHK~!! — ANCESTOR I HAVE NEVER — I HAVE NEVER FELT —"
Her voice broke entirely on the last word.
What came out instead was not language.
It was the sound of a woman who had cultivated the Plum Blossom technique for two hundred years and whose lower dantian had just received the first genuine activation it had ever experienced — not the careful, controlled self-cultivation she had practiced, but the raw, total, external ignition of her foundational technique by something it recognized as a compatible and catastrophically superior source.
Her legs shook so hard the pool water sloshed.
Her round, soft belly jiggled in continuous waves, the fat rippling with every hammering thrust, the cock bulge tracking through her abdomen like something alive and insistent.
The other elders watched with the stillness of people who understood, on some deep, uncurated level, that they were watching something that they had no cultivational framework to categorize. Their own Plum Blossom bases were reacting — warming, the lower dantians of every woman in the room pulling with a sympathetic resonance to the activation happening in Fanxue’s body.
Elder Mengsha pressed her thighs together under the water.
Said nothing.
’[Elder Fanxue — Internal]’
’It is too big.’
’It is too — why is it still going — every time I think I have reached the end of it he pulls back and drives DEEPER and the deep part, the part nobody warned me about, the part where his cockhead hits something inside me that feels like it is where my soul lives —’
’My dantian is on fire.’
’My dantian has never felt like this. I have meditated every morning for two hundred years and my dantian has never —’
’He is biting my tit.’
’He is —’
’Oh.’
’OH.’
’That is — I did not know that was a — why is that —’
’I CANNOT THINK I CANNOT —’
’ANCESTOR PLEASE I AM GOING TO —’
PAH PAH PAAH PAH PAH PHACCK!
"KYAAAANNNGGHHHH~~!! AAANGH~!! ANCESTOR~!! THIS HUMBLE ONE — THIS BODY — SOMETHING IS — HAAIYAANGH~!! — I CANNOT HOLD IT~!! YOUR JADE PILLAR IS BREAKING MY INNER SANCTUM — BREAKING AND REBUILDING AND I —"