Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs

Chapter 998: Vanessa’s Heaven (r-18)

Her entire body launched off the mattress.

"OH FUCK—" She moaned while her hands slammed into my hair. Grabbed. Yanked.

Her thighs clamped around my ears then immediately fell open again because the pleasure was already too big, too sharp, and she couldn’t decide whether to crush me or spread wider so I could ruin her properly.

I didn’t tease. Not today. Not for a woman who’d never had a mouth this good between her legs in her entire forty-something years of life.

I sealed my lips around her clit—fat, engorged, pulsing like a second heartbeat—and sucked. Gentle suction at first, then firmer, drawing the sensitive pearl deeper into the wet heat of my mouth.

My tongue circled it in tight, slow spirals while the suction pulled blood to the surface, making it swell even thicker against my tongue. Her hips bucked—hard, violent—and she cried out. Not words. Just a broken, animal sound of pure shock.

"Oh my God—Peter—what—how—"

I worked her clit ruthlessly now—fast little flicks over the underside, then broad, dragging laps that covered every millimeter, then back to pointed, fluttering lashes right on the tip.

My hands gripped her thighs, thumbs digging into the softest inner flesh, prying her wider, keeping her spread and helpless while her hips rolled against my face in messy, desperate circles—rhythm of someone who’d never been taught how to chase this, only how to survive without it.

Then I dropped lower.

Tongue rigid, I speared straight into her entrance—hot, silky, impossibly tight after so long unused.

Her walls clamped down instantly, fluttering in frantic spasms around the intrusion, trying to pull me deeper.

I fucked her with my tongue—slow at first, then faster—thrusting in and out in wet, obscene strokes, curling the tip upward to drag along that spongy front wall with every plunge. Her slick gushed in fresh pulses, coating my chin, dripping down my neck, pooling under her ass.

"Don’t stop—please—fuck—don’t you dare stop—"

I wouldn’t.

Not when she was making those wrecked, half-sobbing sounds. Not when her fingers were twisted so tight in my hair it burned. Not when her thighs shook so violently the whole bed frame rattled.

I activated Touch through my palms—sliding both hands up her body while my tongue kept fucking deep into her cunt.

Fingers splayed across her ribs, then cupped those heavy, swaying breasts again, thumbs and forefingers pinching her dark, elongated nipples with perfect pressure—rewriting every nerve ending so that each pinch sent lightning straight to her clit.

Her back arched off the mattress like she’d been electrocuted.

"PETER—"

Her inner muscles spasmed wildly—clenching, releasing, clenching again—like her cunt was trying to milk an orgasm out of my tongue itself.

I moved one hand lower.

Thumb found her clit—swollen, slippery, throbbing—and rubbed fast, tight circles while my tongue kept spearing deep, fucking her open, stretching her, filling her in wet, filthy rhythm.

The other hand stayed on her breast, rolling that thick nipple, tugging it gently, letting the enhanced nerves turn every pinch into a direct pulse against her core.

Her stomach clenched in rhythmic waves. Thighs trembled uncontrollably. Hips ground against my face with zero grace left—just pure, animal need.

"I’m—something’s—I think I’m gonna—fuck—I’m coming—"

Her whole body locked. Every muscle seized at once—thighs crushing my head, stomach caving in, back bowing so hard only her shoulders and heels touched the bed. Mouth open in a silent scream.

Then the sound tore free—a raw, high, broken wail that echoed off the walls.

She came violently on my tongue.

Her pussy convulsed in deep, powerful contractions—walls clamping down on my thrusting tongue like a fist, trying to trap it inside. Her clit throbbed wildly under my thumb. Fresh slick flooded out in hot, rhythmic gushes—coating my chin, my cheeks, running in thick rivulets down her ass crack to the sheets.

Her thighs shook so hard they slapped against my ears. Fingers went slack in my hair. Toes curled tight.

I didn’t stop.

I fucked her through it—slower now, tongue still sliding in and out of those pulsing walls, thumb still circling her spasming clit with feather-light pressure, drawing out every aftershock.

Each soft thrust pulled another whimper, another hip jerk, another flutter from her wrecked cunt.

When the worst of the tremors finally eased—when her body went limp and boneless and her breathing turned to ragged little sobs—I gave one last, gentle lick from entrance to clit, collecting the last of her release.

She flinched—overstimulated, swollen, hypersensitive—but didn’t pull away.

I lifted my head.

She was staring at the ceiling through tears. Chin shining with her own slick. Eyes glassy, wrecked, devastated in the best way. The look of a woman who’d just had something fundamental rewritten inside her.

"Nobody..." she whispered, voice cracked. "Nobody’s ever... done that. Not... Ahhhh~"

That’s why I am the Liberation Dark Lord, babe. That’s why!

I crawled up her body. Settled beside her. Pulled her into my chest. She buried her face against me and cried—quiet, steady, cleansing tears that had been dammed up far longer than two years.

I held her. Stroked her back. Let her shake.

After a long while she pulled back, wiped her eyes, gave a wet laugh.

"I came so hard I cried. That’s mortifying."

"You had cartoon-cat panties. That’s mortifying."

She smacked my chest—weak, laughing. "You said it was okay... I hate you."

"You really don’t."

Her hand came up. Traced my jaw. Thumb wiped her own wetness from my chin with aching tenderness.

"I want the rest," she said quietly. "I want you inside me. I want to feel what I’ve been missing for so fucking long."

I kissed her—deep, slow, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moaned into my mouth and kissed me harder.

"You’re sure?"

"I’ve never been more sure."

I undressed while she watched—eyes hungry now, following every line of muscle, widening when my cock sprang free—thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.

"Oh," she breathed again.

"Still warrants repeating?"

"Very much."

I lowered myself over her. Chest to her soft, heavy breasts. Stomach to the gentle curve of her belly. My cock sliding hot and thick through her soaked folds, nudging her oversensitive clit on every pass until she whimpered.

"Please," she whispered—the word that always undid me.

I notched myself at her entrance—hot, fluttering, still dripping from her orgasm.

And pushed in—slow, relentless, inch by thick inch—stretching her open for the first time in years while her nails dug into my back and she gasped my name like a prayer.

Gods, the way her pussy took me. I watched it happen—those plump, dark-flushed outer lips parting obscenely around the fat head of my cock, stretching wide, glistening with fresh slick as I sank deeper.

Fuck... she is tight—impossibly tight after years of nothing possibly no one has ever stretched her like this—but so wet, so ready, her inner walls fluttering and gripping me like a velvet fist that had been starving for exactly this.

Every inch I fed her made her breasts heave, those heavy, motherly tits swaying with the motion, dark nipples still rock-hard and begging.

I activated Size Control the moment I felt her limits—adjusting my girth in real time, thickening just enough to fill her perfectly without pain, then lengthening a few less inch so the head kissed her cervix on the first full stroke without any of my cock outside her pussy.

Just thickness and fullness!

She cried out—high, shocked, grateful—her slim hips bucking up to meet me.

"Peter—oh my God—it’s—"

I bottomed out. Buried to the hilt.

Her pussy clamped down around me in rhythmic spasms, milking me already, that sweet, tangy mature-woman scent exploding between us as her juices coated my balls and dripped down to the sheets.

I held still for a second, just letting her feel it—full, owned, stretched around a cock that was rewriting every memory of the selfish prick who’d come before me.

Look at her, staring down at this beautiful, neglected mother finally getting fucked the way she deserved. Years of emptiness and now she’s clenching on me like she never wants me to leave.

I started to move—slow, deep rolls of my hips, dragging my thick shaft along every sensitive inch of her walls. Magical Touch poured from my palms as I cupped her swaying breasts, thumbs circling those thick, chocolate-brown nipples, rewriting her nerve endings so every thrust sent sparks straight to her clit.

Her back arched hard, pushing those soft, heavy tits into my hands, and she sobbed my name again.

I leaned down, sucked one dark nipple into my mouth while I fucked her—deep, steady strokes that made wet, filthy sounds every time my hips met hers.

Her pussy was creaming around me now, white, glossy rings forming at the base of my cock with every pull-out, her inner lips gripping me so tightly they dragged outward on the withdrawal.

"Fuck—Peter—deeper—please—"

I gave it to her—ight now I wanted her to come, so hard, on my cock. I angled my hips, let Size Control curve my shaft upward to grind against her g-spot on every thrust. Her eyes rolled back.

Thighs locked around my waist.

That slim, motherly belly trembled with every impact, stretch marks shining silver under the light as her body finally got what it had been screaming for.

I slid one hand down between us, my fingertips finding her swollen clit—still hypersensitive from my tongue—and rubbed slow, perfect circles while my cock pistoned in and out.