Chapter 602 - Taking her for injection in her ass
’I am a mother. I am a wife of the Cai house. I have borne two children. I have stood in merchant halls and negotiated with Golden Core cultivators and never—never—has a man dared to press himself against me like this in public.’
’But he is the ancestor. He is power itself. He is the storm that could erase my clan with a thought.’
’I cannot move. I cannot protest. If I do, my son is finished. My family is finished. My husband’s legacy is ash.’
’And oh heavens—his cock is so big. It is pressing between my ass cheeks through the silk. I can feel every vein, every throb, every inch of his divine shaft. My pussy is wet. I am ashamed. I am terrified. I am...’
’I am aroused. I am a terrible mother. I am a slut. But I cannot stop the heat flooding my cunt.’
’His hand—’
Tianlong’s hand moved.
While the crowd watched the golden-crimson light swirling around their arms in a display of martial unity, his right hand dropped from her wrist. It slid beneath her raised arm, his palm pressing against the underside of her heavy, maternal tit. His fingers sank into the soft, silk-covered flesh, pushing upward, kneading the weight of her breast with a slow, obscene squeeze that made her nipple stiffen against the fabric.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning. Her face flushed crimson.
"Tiger Claw," Tianlong said, his voice loud and instructional for the crowd, "and Dragon Fist. Not different. They share the same elemental energy. Beast qi. Predator qi. You only need to understand the unity of the killing intent."
His hand under her tit squeezed harder.
His thumb found her stiff nipple through the silk. It was hard, betraying her, aching with a sensitivity she had forgotten she possessed. He rolled it, pinched it, tugged it with the casual, vulgar expertise of a man who had handled a thousand tits and remembered every one. Sparks of sensation shot through her chest, down her belly, into her soaked pussy. Her knees went weak. She would have fallen if his other arm around her waist had not held her up.
"Ancestor..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, her breath hitching.
"Do not speak," he said against her ear, his lips brushing her hair. "Feel. Move with me."
He ground his cock against her ass.
His hips rolled in a slow, deliberate circle, pressing the thick, divine shaft deeper into the cleft of her silk-covered cheeks. The crowd saw only the martial display—the golden light, the claw formations, the ancestor teaching a noble mother. But beneath the silk, his cock was humping her thick, maternal ass with the steady, lewd rhythm of a man enjoying a whore.
The woman’s hips moved.
Not by her will. By his. He guided her with the pressure of his body, making her drop her ass back against his crotch in a slow, grinding motion that matched the flow of spiritual energy. Her thick, child-bearing hips rolled, her soft flesh yielding to his hardness, the silk dress riding up slightly to expose the lower curve of her ass to the air.
"Good," he whispered. "Now feel the mix."
He thrust his hips once, hard.
The woman’s ass clapped back against his crotch with a soft, wet sound that was lost in the spiritual thunder. Her silk dress was soaked at her thighs—from arousal, from fear, from the overwhelming energy flooding her channels. She felt her cultivation bottleneck—the one that had kept her at Foundation Establishment for twelve years, the wall that no clan teacher could help her break—begin to crack under the pressure of his qi.
"Do you feel it?" he whispered, his tongue flicking her earlobe.
"Yes," she gasped. Her face was flushed, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted. "I feel... I feel..."
Enlightenment hit her like a divine spear.
The bottleneck shattered.
Her meridians expanded with a sound like tearing silk. Her dantian blazed, her core condensing from mist to liquid, from liquid to solid—a true Core Formation, achieved in a single, explosive moment. The energy rushed through her body so intensely that her back arched, her heavy tits thrusting forward, her silk dress straining against the nipples he had stiffened.
Above them, the sky darkened.
A Dao declaration rumbled in the heavens like the voice of a god. The clouds swirled into the shape of a coiling dragon and a roaring tiger, their forms merging in a dance of elemental unity. Golden-crimson light bathed the arena, and the spiritual energy of the entire sect surged, making every cultivator present fall to their knees in prostration.
"Kneel," Tianlong commanded.
The entire arena crashed down.
Parents, elders, disciples, merchants—all pressed their foreheads to the stone. The only ones standing were Tianlong and the woman in his grip, her body trembling against his chest, her new Core Formation base blazing with light that shone through her silk dress.
She looked over her shoulder at him.
And in her flushed, overwhelmed face, she saw him clearly for the first time. The carved, divine features. The gold-crimson eyes that burned with terrible knowledge. The sheer, impossible power radiating from his body. Her heart thumped so hard she thought it would burst from her chest and offer itself to him.
She tried to bow.
"Thank you, Ancestor," she stammered, attempting to lower herself, her thick hips sinking. "I am... I am honored... I will serve..."
His hand on her hip tightened.
He grabbed her ass.
His fingers sank into the thick, soft flesh of her right cheek, squeezing with possessive, vulgar force. No one in the kneeling crowd could see—the angle was hidden by her silk dress and his body—but she felt it. She felt his hand claiming her maternal ass with the same grip he used on whores and bitches, his fingers digging into the flesh that had borne children, marking it as his property.
"Do not bend," he said, his voice low and intimate, meant only for her. "I will tell you when to bend. And when you do, it will be over my cock, not this stone."
She flinched.
Her pussy clenched so hard she nearly came. A fresh wave of arousal soaked her inner thighs, dripping down her legs beneath the silk.
"Ancestor..." she breathed, her voice broken.
Tianlong looked at her.
His eyes moved over her flushed face, her parted lips, her heaving tits straining against the azure silk. He smiled, the dark, predatory smile of a man who had found his next meal.
"Want to go for some break?" he asked.
The woman trembled.
Her son was still kneeling in chains at the back of the arena. Her husband was waiting at their estate, unaware that his wife’s cunt was soaked for another man. She was a mother, a merchant wife, a woman of standing and dignity.
"Yes," she whispered.
Her flush deepened to a dark, shameful crimson. Her eyes dropped to his chest, unable to meet his gaze. "Yes, Ancestor."
Tianlong released her ass slowly, his fingers dragging across the silk with obscene, lingering leisure. He stepped back, his cock still visibly hard against his robe, the outline thick and unmistakable, a divine weapon that she could not stop staring at.
"Follow me to the Medicine Ward."