In the heart of the Immortal Sect's secluded obsidian chamber, where veins of starlight qi pulsed like forbidden desires through the cold stone walls, Elder Feng Lianhua knelt alone.
Her body, a masterpiece of mature perfection, betrayed the centuries of iron discipline she had imposed upon it. Full, heavy breasts strained against the silk of her robes, nipples already stiff and aching, begging for touch. Her hips, wide and fertile, curved into thighs that promised sinful heat, and between them, her untouched pussy throbbed with a wetness she could no longer deny.
The elder's frost-blue eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in ragged gasps as Tianlong's image invaded her mind—his arrogant grin, his rough hands, the way he'd plunged his fingers into her dripping cunt, stretching her virgin hole with vulgar, wet schlks that echoed in her memory.
"Damn you... Tianlong," she whispered, her voice a husky moan, thick with lust she despised but craved.
