Chapter 68 of 90
How Many Men Have Touched Her
Then, as soon as she was out of sight, he was suddenly, blindingly angry.
How many men? The thought would not leave him. How many men have had their hands on those breasts? On that ass? How many have sat right here at this table and squeezed my wife's tits and spread her and looked at everything—
And he had seen it once. Once. Just now.
He gripped the edge of the table and breathed through his nose and waited for her.
She came back with a tray. Wine, and a dish of something glazed and steaming that he did not look at. She set them down on the table and stood beside it.
He took out a white jade token and laid it on the table.
Four lotus flowers.
"Sit," he said.
Nalan Meng was already shaking. He could see it—a fine tremor all through her, in her hands, her thighs, her breasts. But she sat. On the bench beside him, close against his side.
How? He looked at her. How can she wear this—with that pride of hers?
Her breasts hung right in front of him, barely held by the little black triangles. He could see the shape of her nipples under the leather. He could smell her—plum blossom, and something warmer.
He reached out and put his hand on her breast.
It was the first time.
It was smooth. That was what he noticed first. Smooth as polished jade, and warm, and so soft that his fingers sank into it. He grabbed it. He could not help it. It flowed around his hand and swelled up between his fingers. A small sound came out of her. A tiny shy moan, quickly stifled.
He went mad.
He grabbed harder. He kneaded. He took the little leather triangle between his fingers and pulled it down, off her breast, and then the other. And both her breasts sprang out bare into the lantern light.
Her nipples were pink. Soft rosy pink, and stiff, pointing straight out at him.
He stared at them. My wife's breasts. He took them both in his hands.
Nalan Meng sat trembling under his hands.
She was terrified. Does he know? No—he couldn't. The mask. The mask had fooled Li Yutang. It had fooled half the city. He doesn't know. He can't know.
And she was angry with him. Coming to a filthy place like this. Using a VIP token. On a waitress.
But she was the one working here. The anger would not hold. It went out of her as fast as it came. She was the one who had not done her duty as a wife. Not in three years. Of course he had come to a place like this. What else could a man do?
She was still shy of him. Terribly shy. More shy than with any stranger.
And his hands felt good.
While he kneaded one breast, his other hand slid down. Over her belly. Between her thighs.
He touched her pussy through the little strip of leather. It was wet. Soaked already—with shame, with fear, with whatever it was that her immoral status turned those into.
He hooked his fingers in the leather and pulled it away. Down her thighs. Off.
She was completely naked beside him.
It was the first time he had ever seen his own wife naked. All of her. Her body was so beautiful that a man could have died for it and thought it a fair trade. He put his fingers on her pussy. On the soft, shaven, swollen lips. He slid one finger along the slit, slowly, through her wetness, and found her clit, and rubbed it. And with the other hand he squeezed her breast.
She moaned.
She could not stop it. She bit her lip and moaned anyway, soft and shaking, and her hips rocked against his fingers. She was enjoying it. Shamelessly. And all the while, in the back of her mind, she was thanking the heavens for the mask.
He pushed her forward over the table.
She went down on her elbows with her ass toward him. He looked at it for a second—that perfect, round, white ass, his wife's ass—and then he slapped it.
Not hard. A crisp, light smack.
Nalan Meng moaned. Loudly. She was so wet that he could see it on her thighs.
He took her cheeks in both hands and felt them. Kneaded them. And he remembered—the market, that first day, the crowd pressing them together, his cock against her ass through their clothes, and the look on her face when she turned around. She had wanted to kill him for that.
Now her ass was completely naked under his hands. With a red handprint on the right cheek, from his own palm.
Her asshole was clenching. He could see it. A small pink pucker, twisting with excitement. And below it, her pussy pressed between her thighs—puffy and plump, the lips swollen and parted and glistening.
He wanted to eat it.
So he did.
He pushed his face between her thighs from behind and put his mouth on her. And licked. And sucked. Her juices ran over his tongue, sweet and salt, and he drank them. He held her ass in both hands and buried his face in her and sucked her pussy like a madman, licking, drinking, making her even wetter with his spit. He could hear her moaning. Above him, on the table. Over and over.
When he finally pulled his face away, he was gasping. His chin was dripping.
He looked at her asshole again. Small. Pink. Twitching.
He wet his thumb, and pressed it in.
Nalan Meng's eyes rolled back in her head.
She felt it go in. His thumb, into her ass. Not far. But in. And she was already so close—from the exposure, from all those eyes, from being spread and licked on the table by her husband—that her whole body seized up, and shook, and almost went over.
Li Yuguo was going mad.
Because of the system, he thought, I can't fuck this perfect pussy. It was right there. Wet and open and waiting. Can't.
But he could enjoy her body. All of it. As much as the rules let him. As much as the curse let him.
He opened his robe. He took out his cock.
And he pulled her back up off the table, and sat her down in his lap. On his cock.
She felt it slide up between her cheeks.
Thick. Hot. Hard. It pressed into the crack of her ass and lay there, and the head of it pushed against her asshole.
And a window opened in front of Li Yuguo's face.
[ SYSTEM WARNING ]
A woman's pussy has been detected near the host's cock.
Should the host's cock penetrate a woman before the Cuckold Bar is filled, it will be sealed for one (1) year.
Host, be aware: you may as well be dead.
Cold went through him. For one second he was afraid. Truly afraid.
Sealed. A year. A whole year of this—of having her in his lap and nothing.
But her ass was so soft against him. So warm. Her cheeks hugged his cock on either side, and the heat of her was soaking into him, and it felt so good that he could not make himself stop.
It's her ass, he told himself. Not her pussy. It's in the crack of her ass. I'll keep away from her pussy.
He kept going.
He turned her head with one hand, so that she was looking back over her shoulder at him. And kissed her.
On the mouth. Deep. His tongue went into her mouth and found hers and wrapped around it. She tasted of wine. She did not pull away. Her tongue moved against his, shy at first, then not shy at all.
And he rubbed his cock in the cleft of her ass while he kissed her. Up and down. Along her asshole.
How many? The thought came back. How many men have felt this? With my wife? And it made his cock grow even bigger.
People were staring.
He could see them over her shoulder. At the next table, and the next. Men with their own waitresses in their laps, looking past them—at Nalan Meng. At her naked body on his lap. At her bare breasts bouncing, her spread thighs, her pussy wet and open in the lantern light. Hungry looks. Jealous looks.
And at one of those nearby tables, a woman was sitting on the thigh of a middle-aged man in a merchant's robe, with his hand on her breast, squeezing.
Li Yuguo looked at her. He frowned.
That figure. Long legs. Narrow waist. Proud, high breasts. I know that figure.
He could not stop himself.
[ Name: Yun Xianchen ]
Status: Angry, Shy, Horny, Immoral
Secret: Carrying out a sect mission in Heaven Lust, as a waitress.
He stared.
Yun Xianchen. Here. On the second floor. In two triangles and a thread. With a stranger's hand on her breast.
Two nights ago she had been crying on his bed because he called her ugly. Now she was sitting on a fat merchant's thigh and letting him squeeze her tits.
Immoral. He looked at that word for a long moment. All women related to the user. Related. A deal sworn by lamplight. A massage. A kiss that had been an accident. Is that enough? Apparently, to Lord Yama's system, it was.
He smiled.
Nalan Meng was moving on his lap.
She was shaking her ass on his cock. Slow, grinding circles, the way the bar had taught her. And after seeing Yun Xianchen, his cock had swollen to its full size—thicker and longer than it had ever been—so that it lay in the cleft of her ass like a bar of hot iron.
So big. She felt it, and her mind went blank. Like a steel rod. Between my cheeks. She had never known. She had never imagined her husband had a cock like that.
Her pussy made a wet, lewd sound. She felt herself let go. A gush of slick white wetness ran out of her and down over his thighs, and she shook, and collapsed forward onto the table, gasping.
Li Yuguo looked at her lying there.
She came, he thought. From that. From just a little rubbing.
He stood up behind her. He took her ass in both hands and pushed the cheeks together around his cock, and began to thrust. Fast. Hard. Rubbing his cock in the cleft of her ass, using her cheeks like a sheath, so close to her pussy that he could feel its heat on the underside of his shaft. Close. Close. But not in.
He came.
Thick and hot, in long spurts, into the crack of her ass. He groaned.
Then he sat down on the bench, heavily, and looked.
His cum was lying in the crease of her ass in a long white thread, between her two round cheeks. Her pussy was still dripping beneath it. Her right cheek was red from his hand. It was a messy, filthy, beautiful sight.
He wanted more. He wanted much, much more.
But he could not control himself much longer. And he did not want to end up sealed for a year. So he stopped.
He leaned forward, slowly.
He put his mouth against her ear, where she lay panting on the table. And he spoke, very softly, in his own voice.
"I never thought," he whispered, "that you could be this shameless, Nalan Meng."
She froze.
Every muscle in her body locked at once. Her breath stopped in her chest.
He knew.
From the very beginning. From the moment she walked up to the table. He had known it was her. And he had let her—he had played with her—all this time—
Fear went through her, cold and absolute. What will he do now? Will he tell everyone? Will he blackmail me? What does he want?
She did not know. She did not know anything.
She looked back over her shoulder at him.
He was smiling. An evil, quiet, satisfied smile. And she crumbled.
She could not find a single word. She lay there naked on the table, with his cum in the crack of her ass, and stared at him.
"Come to my room," he said, "when you get home."
And he stood up, and fastened his robe, and walked out—calmly, unhurriedly, as if he had only come in for a cup of wine.
Nalan Meng stayed where she was for a long time.
Her mind would not work. A hundred thoughts were going through it at once, and none of them would hold still. What will I do? What can I do? She would never be able to look at him again. Not with the same pride. Not after this. Not after he had seen her secret.
At last she got up. She walked to the changing room on legs she could not feel. She put on her clothes.
And she went out into the dark toward the mansion, with fear sitting in her heart like a stone.
In the guest room, a soft gold window opened in the darkness and hung there, waiting for him to come home.
[ Cuckold Points +50 ] ×8 Source: Nalan Meng — onlookers, second floor
Current Cuckold Points: 5400 Cuckold Bar: 96%
(Converted to life span.) Remaining Life Span: 146 days
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