Ayn listened to her moaning so lewdly, his big cock—still fresh from shooting deep in her slutty pussy—swelling back to iron-hard stiffness, veins bulging like they might burst. He didn't rush to grab his cock and ram it into her ass; instead, a playful urge struck him.
He reached out with a finger, probing toward that tight hot hole first, his index finger slipping easily into the pink folds, feeling the inner walls wriggle and pulse with heat. Then he started gently fingering her, stirring up endless wet squelching sounds, like churning a pot of thick honey syrup. Aya's asshole responded right away, the muscles clenching and releasing in rhythm, the fullness sending a thrill straight up her spine that had her humming low with pleasure.
After fingering her ass for a bit, Ayn pulled out and looked, his index finger was coated in glistening lewd fluid, sticky and stringy like it pulled threads, smoother than any store-bought lube, and it carried an intensely slutty fragrance. He couldn't resist licking it clean; there was no salty bitterness, just sweet musk like the essence of desire itself, buzzing his brain and making his cock twitch again. Clearly, Aya's asshole was no ordinary thing, under the transcendent boost, it secreted loads of this natural lube on its own, the walls adapting automatically, made just for Ayn's cock.
Seeing how slutty her asshole was acting, Ayn's heart soared with delight. He couldn't help diving back in with his tongue, the tip burrowing into the folds, wet lapping sounds mixing with soft sucking smacks as he swirled the sensitive inner flesh, like savoring the juices of forbidden fruit. Aya was driven wild by the licking, her moans spilling out nonstop: "Ah... hubby... it feels so good..." Her tits swayed and jiggled, spraying milk in wild arcs that splattered the ground, the sweet, cloying scent of cream filling the air. Any guy seeing this would get rock-hard—no exceptions, not even for the straightest-laced ones.
Aya kept begging for it—"Big cock, fuck me... wreck my slutty asshole"—but Ayn wasn't in a hurry, grinning wickedly as he kept fingering her. He started with that one index finger in her asshole, stirring until her walls spasmed, then added his middle finger, thrusting them together into the hot little hole, stretching the folds wide with slick splatters flying on each pump. Next came his ring finger, cramming in for three-finger action, bulging her asshole out a little, the squelching growing louder and messier.
Ayn even toyed with the idea of fisting her, since it was so damn elastic, but he held back out of care for Aya and didn't go through with it in the end. However, these things made him realize that this cute, tempting asshole could adjust its size at will under transcendent power, easily taking his thick cock without tearing—just pure mind-blowing bliss.
The double assault of fingers and tongue had Aya completely undone, her pussy, which had just climaxed, suddenly climaxing again, juices squirting out like a fountain from her slit in a glistening arc that soaked the ground. Her body convulsed hard, her lewd cries breaking into gasps: "Oh... fuck... I'm dying..." Her tits gushed even harder, milk spraying everywhere.
The sight filled Ayn with explosive joy, a rush of accomplishment crashing over him like a heatwave—fuck, getting her off to the stars with just his fingers? That shit beat conquering the world by a mile, throbbing his cock and pounding his heart like it might explode! In that instant, his mind went blank with a buzz, and he decided right then: from now on, he'd fuck this woman several times a day—her pussy, her ass, her little mouth, even titfucking those milky jugs tight around him, or footjobs with her toes jerking him off—playing every slutty hole she had! Hell, with a woman like this, who the fuck cared about world domination? This dripping-wet pussy was Ayn's entire world, his personal paradise of filthy bliss!
Under this level of impulse, Ayn couldn't hold back any longer—he gripped his cock directly, ready to fuck that slutty asshole. But he still had a shred of reason left and didn't thrust in right away; instead, he first rubbed the glans against her pussy, teasing the swollen clit, even dipping in shallowly to poke into the womb still spasming from climax. The hot, slick inner flesh clamped down hard on his tip, the pleasure buzzing through his brain like static.
Of course, he originally just meant to use her pussy juices to lube up his cock for easier entry into her ass, but as he played around, he couldn't help thrusting deeper, then couldn't help pounding into her womb, slamming a few hard strokes—the tight heat wrapping him so intensely it nearly sent his soul flying—before he barely snapped back to his senses.
He tried to pull out his cock to go for her ass, but her pussy clamped down wildly on his shaft, the inner walls sucking at his glans like countless little mouths, refusing to let go of that big dick no matter what. Ayn felt no frustration at all in his heart—just pure joy and excitement—as he grabbed Aya's waist and pounded her pussy hard, thrusting madly a few times until that slutty hole finally relaxed like total surrender, letting him slide his cock out easily.
By then, his cock was drenched and shiny, strung with glistening threads of her juices; Ayn gripped it and teased her asshole with the glans, making the pink folds quiver delightedly, clenching and unclenching like they were whispering "come fuck me quick," a sweet, musky honey scent seeping from the entrance and heating his groin with desire.
Ayn was thrilled at the sight, and with barely any effort, he pressed his cock forward—the glans slipped right into her asshole, as if it wasn't him pushing in but her hungry little mouth swallowing his tip on its own, the hot inner walls clamping snugly around his ridge. The pleasure nearly made Ayn cum on the spot. Fuck, it felt too goddamn good inside!
It wasn't just simple tightness or numbness—it was like countless tiny tentacles precisely teasing every sensitive spot on his cock, layer upon layer of folds wriggling and sucking, the clench bringing electric tingles of itchiness, waves of melting-hot sweetness that corroded like sweet fire, pulsing shocks building like layered explosions on the verge of blasting. That overwhelming bliss had already shattered physical limits, his soul unraveling into floating nothingness like silk being peeled away, leaving only "good," "better," "fucking best" to describe it. Ayn's mind exploded in white light, desperate to sink forever into this endless abyss of wild rapture.
It was exactly because it felt too damn good—good enough to nearly shatter his insides—that Ayn slapped her perky ass hard, the flesh rippling in waves as a stinging red handprint bloomed, his palm tingling with the leftover heat and bouncy quiver. He cursed out loud: "Slut! Fucking slut! I'm gonna fuck you to death, you dirty whore!"
A rush of wild ecstasy and thrill crashed over his head like a heatwave, and Ayn gripped her waist tight, slamming his cock balls-deep into her asshole in one brutal shove before pounding away roughly, his balls slapping against her pink little pussy with wet smacks, each thrust flinging glistening beads of her juices that splattered onto the grass, kicking up bits of dirt.
And what was Aya doing right then? Just before Ayn started fucking her ass, her pussy had already hit a squirting climax, her fluids arcing out like a fountain in wild sprays. Even now, her body was still lost in the aftershocks, her tits jiggling and spurting milk everywhere, the sweet, thick white cream splattering across her chest and the ground. Her pink lips quivered with heavy breaths, her mouth hanging slightly open with drool pooling at the corners, her eyes rolled back into whites—a classic, cock-drunk orgasm face.
She didn't even notice he'd slid into her ass; all she felt was wave after wave of pleasure crashing in like the tide, wave after wave of bliss zapping down her spine like electricity, wave after wave of raw ecstasy burning her soul like wildfire—not just her body instinctively belting out those slutty screams, but fuck, her very soul was moaning for real.
That soul-moaning wasn't some metaphor—it was a literal vibration, her soul power rippling with massive amplitude as it plunged into total rapture, her mental power boiling like lava into a chaotic puddle, her MP leaking out uncontrollably and turning into a thick aphrodisiac scent that hung heavy in the air.
Any ordinary person catching a whiff of that lust-fragrance would lose it instantly, diving into frantic fucking until they collapsed exhausted, limp as a rag. It was that same scent driving the nearby animals into wild mating frenzies, insects buzzing in swarming pairs, even down to microbes splitting faster, breeding like wildfire across the plains.
Of course, whether it was soul power, mental power, or MP, it all zeroed in on Ayn—her soul power snaking into his depths like hungry vines, searching for a nook to settle in; her mental power twisting and tangling, trying to fuck his own mental power wildly and melt into a knotted mess of flaming desire; her MP purely stoking the fire, igniting even deeper layers of pleasure between them.
It was precisely the transcendent forces kicking in that let Ayn feel that soul-crushing rapture crystal clear, even without climaxing himself—this orgasm was hers, but through soul-sync it poured straight into him, layer upon layer of waves hammering his nerves like endless velvet heatwaves squeezing his cock, numbing his spine and buzzing his brain nonstop. But Ayn didn't lose control like Aya—no drool streaming in silver lines or eyes rolling blank—simply because he was stronger than her, able to take more of the lust-flood without melting into sludge, leaving him craving even rougher ravaging.
And as Ayn felt the rush of that climax coming from Aya, his heart exploded with joy; his hands slid up from her waist to grab those swinging tits hard, his palms sinking into the soft, bouncy flesh as he squeezed, milk jetting out in sprays that made his veins bulge with stimulation. He didn't slump over her back—instead, he yanked Aya up roughly, arching her back into a crescent bow, her ass hiked high like a sacrificial fuck-offering; his cock hammered her asshole all the while, balls smacking her pussy with sloppy pops, each one flinging sticky strings of her juices, the pleasure drawing nonstop growls from him.
Fucking her ass wildly, kneading her tits to milk them, leaning in for a deep tongue-kiss... but that still wasn't enough—Ayn wished he could grow another cock to fuck into that slutty pussy at the same time, filling both holes and making her scream for mercy!
Although Aya had long since fallen into hazy consciousness, her body instinctively strained to meet him fully: thanks to the transcendent power, her tits became fuller and softer, letting him pinch and deform them as he pleased; the gushing milk grew even sweeter, its honeyed scent assaulting his nose; her tongue didn't feel like a tongue at all—more like a pussy or asshole sucking him in, hot and wet as it coiled around his tongue root, blasting him to heaven; as for her ass, it naturally bucked back madly against Ayn's cock, the inner walls writhing and swallowing him, driving his cock to ecstatic death.
Under these conditions, Ayn couldn't hold out much longer either... Yes, he was indeed stronger than Aya, but his cock was far from reaching that legendary "eternal hard-on" level. So, under the relentless barrage of wave after wave of pleasure crashing like tides, excitement burning like fire, bliss zapping through his spine like electricity, heat waves scorching like molten lava—Ayn finally broke! The climax erupted like a volcano, his cock swelling massively deep in her asshole, veins throbbing as if about to rip through his skin, the glans scorching hot like a branding iron, teetering on the edge of unleashing that overwhelming rapture.
Panting heavily, he released Aya's tits—the pair of full, slutty udders still quivering and jiggling, nipples perked up dripping residual milk, pink areolas marked with handprints, the sticky sweet scent mingling with sweat assaulting his nose. Ayn's eyes were bloodshot as he roughly shoved her forward, forcing the slut to her knees with her ass hiked up, face-down on the ground. Then he clamped his hands vise-tight around her waist, aligning his cock with that steamy hot slut hole and slamming all the way in—the 20 cm thick monstrous meat pounding into her intestines like a pile driver, the glans breaching layer after layer of folds to smash straight into the depths.
Aya's intestines writhed like a living thing, already starving and aching to welcome that big cock—as soon as it entered, they went wild wrapping, kissing, adoring the intruder, inner walls layering and squeezing the crown in stacks, pulsing like a heartbeat to suck at his cock's slit, hot juice-like mucus gushing out to slick the shaft, overwhelming Ayn with stars in his eyes until he couldn't help roaring: "Fuck your mom! This whore's guts are sucking me off!"
That intestinal pleasure was fucking intense, folds coiling like velvet tentacles, heat waves melting in scorching sweet corrosion, electric shocks layering into building explosions drilling straight to his balls—so much that his big cock lost all control and erupted in frenzy, rope after rope of scalding white cum blasting like a high-pressure hose, ramming into the deepest guts, bloating the inner walls until it overflowed the hole in milky foam strings!
This load was bigger than the one he'd dumped in her womb just before—full 16 pulses, over 500 ml of thick semen flooding this slut's intestines and stomach in one go! That's right, her stomach, not just the colon and small intestines—that cum acted almost alive, rocketing "whoosh" up along the intestinal walls in reverse flow, threading through the twisted gut labyrinth, surging into her stomach like hot lava, scalding the lining into shudders and igniting a full-body fire of lust.
Aya's stomach acted like a starving fuck-sack, glugging and swallowing every drop of the thick white, the sweet-salty tang shooting straight up her throat. If this whore were still conscious right now, she might even burp contentedly, rubbing her belly and murmuring to herself "So full... so good...," but alas, she'd long since melted into a puddle of spent mush.
After cumming, Ayn sank into absolute bliss, his mind a chaotic blank, completely forgetting what the world even was. The orgasm had lost his soul in its depths and immersed his body in rapture, but his physical form hadn't fully collapsed—it still held up through pure instinct, keeping his movements going.
Instinctively, he nestled into her embrace, his palm naturally cupping that pair of full breasts, his mouth parting slightly as his tongue lapped at the pink nipple, even sucking down the sweet, thick milk, the warm liquid sliding down his throat mixed with that lingering, exquisite aftertaste.
So, even as his body savored the peak of climax, it didn't go totally limp; instinct let him do all sorts of things still. If a zombie burst in right now, even with his wits scattered, Ayn's body would snap into attack mode in an instant, shredding the monster like a balloon popping in a shower of guts.
It wasn't clear how much time passed before Ayn gradually came back to himself. When he opened his eyes, that once rock-hard big cock wasn't quite so rigid anymore, but it hadn't gone completely flaccid or shrunk either—it hovered around 15 cm, still thick and sturdy, though half-erect in a lazy, spent kind of way.
By then, Aya was already awake, kneeling beside him with her pink lips wrapped around the shaft, her tongue swirling across the crown—god knows if she was just cleaning up the leftover mess of fluids, or simply pouring out her love for Ayn and that big dick of his.
The sight made Ayn's heart swell with joy; he pulled her into a frenzy of kisses, his tongue tangling with hers as he sucked at her lips, nuzzled her neck, and nibbled her earlobes, while Aya responded with equal fire, letting him kiss wherever he pleased, her soft gasps and moans filling the air as her body melted against him. If Ayn suddenly wanted to kiss her heart right now, she might just slice open her chest and hand him the beating thing to smooch.
Of course, Ayn would never have such a stupid thought—Aya wasn't some toy. Sure, when pounding her pussy or ass, words like "slut," "whore," "bitch" flashed through his head in the heat of the moment, but that was just lust taking the wheel, excitement hijacking his brain—it wasn't how he truly saw her. Deep down, he genuinely loved Aya, that love surging up to flood his chest with warmth, the urge to keep this woman by his side forever and ever and ever, never letting go.
Aya sensed that flood of love, her own heart nearly bursting with sweetness and delight—her affection for him ran so deep it was almost overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing inside her that she had to let out somehow, pouring into something tangible to show just how much he meant to her. She started mulling it over: (I like him so much, love him so damn much... so I want to give him something to express it. What should it be? Oh, right—gift him a woman to be his sex slave!!)
The idea burned hot as fire; she immediately pictured two people: Ayn's sister Ari, and that unnamed aunt, his mom's sister. She ruled out Ari right away because sibling bonds ran too deep, Ayn would never go for it. That left just the aunt.
Aya's eyes sparkled with resolve, her decision locked in: (It's you, then!)