Chapter 585- Old Man Gang Banging a Drunkard Wife
The sound was small and sharp and entirely involuntary.
The three elders at the table went still.
Their eyes moved to Meihua with the sudden, focused attention of men who had been hearing about this woman for five years and were now seeing her in the lantern light, flushed from running, her enormous tits heaving, her thick body trembling.
Old Man Wei felt his cock twitch.
He was sixty-three years old. His cultivation had stalled at Qi Condensation thirty years ago. His body was wrinkled, his balls hanging loose in his cotton underclothes, his cock a modest five inches that had not seen a woman in two years.
It twitched now.
Beside him, Old Man Chen felt the same. Sixty-one. Seven inches when he was young, now a reliable six. He had been married twice, widowed twice, and had not thought himself capable of the sudden, hard urgency that was pressing against his robe.
Old Man Liu, the eldest at sixty-seven, simply stared.
His mouth was slightly open. His wrinkled face had gone a deeper red than the wine could account for.
Meihua felt their eyes.
She felt them the way she always felt them — the weight of male attention that her husband had cultivated and displayed and encouraged, the attention that had made her a kind of public monument in Willow Bend without ever asking her if she wanted to be one.
She trembled.
Her hands gripped the wine jar she had brought.
"Husband," she said, her voice low. "I brought the wine."
Zhou grabbed her wrist.
He pulled her forward, off-balance, and she stumbled against his lap. His cock was hard beneath his robe — she felt it press against her thick ass immediately, the familiar, unwelcome poke of his arousal in a public place.
"Serve them," he said, his mouth against her ear, loud enough for the table to hear. "The elders have arrived. Serve them properly."
Meihua’s face went pale.
"I — I could not," she stammered. "Husband, not here — not in the square —"
Zhou laughed.
It was not a cruel laugh. It was the laugh of a man who had drunk too much and was celebrating too hard and had long ago decided that his wife’s body was part of his property to display and distribute as he saw fit.
He stood.
He lifted her — his thick wife, his heavy, soft, fuckable wife — and threw her.
She landed in Old Man Wei’s lap with a heavy thud that made her thick ass cheeks ripple against his bony thighs.
The jar of wine fell and shattered on the stone. The red liquid spread across the ground like blood, staining everything in its path.
Meihua gasped sharply, her massive tits squishing flat against Old Man Wei’s chest. Her enormous, heavy mounds spilled over his frail frame, nipples already stiffening from the sudden pressure.
His cock, hard and modest, pressed against her through his robe and her skirt with the urgent, desperate warmth of an old man who had just been given something he had been fantasizing about for years.
Old Man Wei’s face turned crimson, veins bulging in his wrinkled neck.
His gnarled hands shot up greedily.
They found her tits.
Both of them, through the fabric, the heavy mounds filling his palms with a weight and softness that made his breath go short and his cock strain painfully against his underclothes.
"Ah," he said. His voice came out thin and raspy. "Ah. Zhou. Is this — is this the wife you talked about?"
Zhou was already walking away, his steps light with amusement.
"Enjoy her!" he called over his shoulder, waving one hand. "Drink! I am going to piss!"
He vanished into the alley without a backward glance.
The three elders looked at each other, eyes gleaming with sudden hunger.
Then they looked at Meihua.
She was trembling in Old Man Wei’s lap, her face turned away, her hands pressed against his chest as if she could push herself upright. Her thick thighs quivered around him.
"Please," she whispered, voice cracking. "Please. I am — I am just a wife — I have to prepare —"
Old Man Chen stood up fast, his six-inch cock already throbbing hard against his belly inside his robe. He circled the table with surprising speed for his age.
"Zhou said enjoy her," he growled, licking his dry lips.
Old Man Liu stood too, his seven inches the largest of the three, though wrinkled and veined from years of neglect. He moved to Meihua’s side, eyes locked on her curves.
"On the table," he ordered roughly.
Old Man Wei did not ask permission.
He lifted her with trembling arms, hands digging under her thick thighs, his old muscles straining. He deposited her on the wooden table. The lantern light bathed her body. The red wine spread beneath her back, soaking through her dark blue dress and making the fabric cling wetly to her skin.
Old Man Chen grabbed her skirt with both hands.
He tore it violently.
The fabric ripped with a loud, final sound. Her dark blue dress split open from hem to waist, the modest covering falling away to reveal her thick, pale thighs, her dark-haired pussy with its puffy outer lips already glistening faintly, and the heavy mounds of her enormous tits straining against the torn remnants of her bodice.
"Ah," Old Man Wei breathed again, eyes wide with lust.
He grabbed her left tit hard.
His wrinkled fingers sank deep into the soft, heavy flesh, kneading with desperate, clumsy enthusiasm that made her massive boob deform and jiggle wildly in his grip.
Old Man Chen seized the right one, his mouth descending hungrily. He sucked the nipple through the torn fabric, wet noisy pulls that sent shivers through her body.
Meihua turned her face into her arm, biting her lip.
But inside her mind, sensations flooded her: the rough mouths on her sensitive tits making her puffy nipples ache and tingle, her hairy cunt starting to leak despite herself.
Old Man Liu pulled his cock out.
Seven inches, thin and veined and wrinkled at the base, his hairy balls hanging loose beneath it. He pressed the head against her inner thigh, smearing precum on her pale skin.
"Warm," he muttered. "She is warm."
He positioned himself between her spread thighs.
Old Man Wei had torn her bodice open completely. Her enormous tits fell free, heavy and pale, the dark nipples stiff and puffy from the cold air and rough handling. He buried his face between them, sucking one nipple with wet slurps while his hands mauled the other.
Old Man Liu pushed into her pussy.
His seven inches slid in without much resistance, her slick hairy cunt swallowing him easily.
Meihua felt it immediately, the modest stretch making her walls flutter around the intrusion.
Pah! Pah!
"Hngh~! Oungh~!!"
Her cries escaped before she could stop them, broken and slutty as his thin cock started sawing in and out.
Pah Pah PAH!
"HIEKK~!!! AAANGHH~~!!"
Her thick ass jiggled on the table with each thrust, wine mixing with her juices underneath her.
Inside her head, thoughts swirled hotly: his old cock isn’t big enough to truly wreck me, yet my hairy pussy clenches anyway, milking him like the used wife I am, the friction building this shameful wetness that drips down my crack.
Old Man Liu’s hips rolled with careful, arthritic pace, afraid of hurting himself but too horny to stop. His seven inches plunged repeatedly into her puffy cunt, the wet squelching sounds mixing with the flesh slaps.
Paaaah! Paaah!
"NIEENGHHT~! HAAIYAANGH~!!"