Chapter 657- Milk filled Tits over Water filled Pots
Tianlong took the bucket. He lifted it. The water was clear, cold, the trace spiritual energy tingling on his skin.
He looked at Meifeng. At her lean body, her torn blouse, her medium-sized tits visible through the fabric. At her dark skin, her angular face, her lowered eyes.
He poured the water over her chest.
The cold water hit her blouse. The fabric — already thin, already torn — went transparent. Her tits were revealed — the round, heavy mounds, the dark nipples, the areolae wide and brown. The water ran down her body, soaking her skirt, running down her legs. Her dark skin glistened.
"My — Lord —" she gasped, her body stiffening, her arms rising to cover herself.
"Remove your arms," he said.
She obeyed. Her arms dropped. Her tits were bare — wet, gleaming, the dark nipples stiff from the cold. Her angular face was crimson.
He reached for her blouse. His pale fingers gripped the torn fabric and pulled. The cotton ripped — the sound sharp in the clearing. The pieces fell away. Her upper body was bare. Her tits — round, heavy, the dark nipples stiff — swung free. Her armpits were visible — unshaven, dark tufts of coarse black hair against her brown skin.
He reached for her blouse. His pale fingers gripped the torn fabric and pulled. The cotton ripped — the sound sharp in the clearing. The pieces fell away. Her upper body was bare. Her tits — round, heavy, the dark nipples stiff — swung free. Her armpits were visible — unshaven, dark tufts of coarse black hair against her brown skin.
He lowered his head. His mouth found her left tit. His lips closed around the dark nipple. He sucked.
Meifeng’s body went rigid. Her lean frame trembled. Her hands gripped the grass. Her dark eyes went wide.
"Lord — what — you’re — my —"
His tongue swirled across the dark nipple. His teeth grazed the stiff nub. He sucked harder, pulling the entire areola into his mouth, the soft flesh of her tit deforming against his lips.
And then — milk.
The taste hit his tongue. Warm. Sweet. The faint, electric tingle of a woman’s life force — the qi that flowed through breast milk, the spiritual energy that every mortal woman carried in trace amounts, concentrated in the fluid that sustained new life. It was thin, weak, barely detectable. But it was there.
Meifeng gasped. "I — I am still — my child was weaned only — the milk hasn’t — Lord, please —"
He sucked harder. The milk flowed — a thin stream, warm and sweet, filling his mouth. He swallowed. The trace qi hit his system and was absorbed instantly — a drop in the ocean of his divine reserves, but present.
He switched to her right tit. Same treatment. His mouth found the dark nipple, his lips sealed, his tongue worked. The milk came — thicker this time, the let-down reflex triggering, the ducts opening. He sucked and drank.
"Ah — ah —" Meifeng’s head fell back. Her lean body was trembling, her dark skin flushed. Her hands gripped the grass, tearing it from the earth. "Lord — I — my body — something — the feeling —"
The other three women watched. Still on their knees, still prostrate, their faces hidden. But their eyes — wide, terrified, confused — tracked the immortal’s mouth on Meifeng’s tit. They saw the milk. They saw Meifeng’s body responding — the flush, the trembling, the way her thighs pressed together.
Tianlong released Meifeng’s tit. The dark nipple was wet, red, stiff. Milk — thin, white — dripped from the tip.
He turned to Aihua.
The short, thick woman was already looking up — her round face flushed, her large tits heaving beneath her torn blouse. Her dark eyes were wide, her full lips parted.
He grabbed her blouse. Pulled. The fabric tore. Her large tits swung free — heavy, wide, the dark nipples large and stiff, the areolae wide and brown. Her thick body was bare from the waist up, her soft belly visible, her stretch marks catching the light. Her armpits were hairy — thick, dark tufts against her medium-brown skin.
He sucked her left tit. His mouth closed around the large dark nipple. He sucked.
The milk came immediately — thicker than Meifeng’s, richer. Aihua had weaned her youngest only months ago. Her ducts were still active, still producing. The milk flooded his mouth — warm, sweet, the qi tingling. He swallowed. Switched to the right tit. Sucked. More milk.
"Hahh —" Aihua’s thick body trembled. Her large tits heaved, the free one swinging as the other was devoured. Her round face was flushed, her dark eyes half-closed. "Lord — please — I — my milk — you’re taking my —"
He released her. Her dark nipples were wet, dripping. He turned to Liling.
The young woman was shaking. Her small round tits were heaving beneath her torn blouse, the pink nipples visible through the fabric. Her long black hair fell across her oval face, her dark eyes wide with terror.
He didn’t tear her blouse. He pulled it up. Slowly. The fabric rose — exposing her flat stomach, her narrow waist, her small round tits. Her nipples were pink — small, stiff, the areolae pale. Her skin was smooth, medium-brown, unmarked.
He sucked her left tit. No milk — she had never borne a child. But the nipple was responsive — stiffening instantly under his tongue, the areolae tightening. He sucked, bit gently, licked. Liling’s young body convulsed.
"Ah — AH — Lord — I — I’ve never — no one has — my —"
He switched to the right tit. Same treatment. Her small round tits were wet with his saliva, the pink nipples raw and red.
Then Cuifen. The oldest. The thickest.
Her enormous tits were already straining her torn blouse — the heavy mounds visible through the fabric, the dark nipples wide, the areolae large. When he tore the blouse, her tits swung free — heavy, low, the mounds resting on her ribcage, the nipples pointing downward. Her belly was soft, round, marked with stretch marks. Her armpits were hairy — thick, dark, the tufts visible against her dark brown skin.
He sucked her left tit. His mouth closed around the wide, dark nipple. He sucked.
The milk exploded.
Cuifen’s body was a fountain. Her youngest child was only a year old — she was still nursing, still producing heavily. The milk came in a thick, steady stream — warm, rich, sweet, the qi in it stronger than any of the others. He drank. Swallowed. Drank more. His mouth worked her enormous tit, his tongue swirling, his lips pulling.
"Oh — oh — LORD —" Cuifen’s thick body convulsed. Her enormous tits heaved, the free one swinging heavily. Her round face was contorted, her dark eyes rolling. "My — my milk — you’re — oh heavens — the feeling — it’s —"
He drained her left. Switched to the right. Drained that too. Cuifen’s body was trembling, her thighs pressing together, her thick-furred pussy — visible through her torn skirt — soaking with arousal.
Four women. Four sets of tits. Two with milk. Two without. All four bare from the waist up, their tits wet, their nipples raw, their bodies trembling.
Tianlong looked at them. His gold-crimson eyes swept the clearing — at the four topless, trembling women, their tits exposed, their hairy armpits visible, their torn clothes barely covering their lower bodies.
"Follow me," he said.
He led them to the cave.
It was a natural formation — a shallow overhang in the rock face at the clearing’s edge, the stone worn smooth by centuries of wind and water. The floor was covered in soft moss and dry leaves. The ceiling was low enough to touch. The opening faced away from the clearing, hidden by a screen of hanging vines and overgrown bushes.