Chapter 782 - 781 - Incubus Just Wants to Retire?!

Chapter 782: Chapter 781 - Incubus Just Wants to Retire?!

The milk hit my tongue — sweet, warm, thick. I swallowed. My body responded — the healing, the energy, the strength. Her milk was different from the others. Richer. Denser. Packed with the residual magic of a woman who had been channeling my power for a month. I drank deeply, my hips moving in slow, deep strokes.

Pah Pah Pah.

"Ah — my Lord — HAAANGH~!! — yes — OUNGH~!! — I missed you — AH~!! — I missed you so much — HIEEENGH~!!"

I fucked her again. And again. And again. Her body — pregnant, lactating, devoted — took everything I gave. I came inside her three times. Her pussy — tight, wet, hungry — milked me each time, her walls clenching, her body absorbing my seed with the supernatural efficiency of an incubus’s bonded mate.

We lay on the rooftop. The moon hung overhead. The town sprawled below — the tower, the walls, the market, the church with its golden cock idol. My wives were scattered across the rooftop — the two unconscious women, Mirin curled up with her hand over her pussy, Rosalind snoring softly in her sheet.

Olivia lay on my chest. Her blonde hair spread across my skin. Her breath was slow. Even. Her belly pressed against my side, the child inside shifting occasionally. Her hand rested on my cock — limp, spent, but still in her grip.

"Good night," I murmured. I kissed her head. Closed my eyes.

A foot pushed against my balls.

My eyes opened. I looked down. Three faces stared at me — Mira, Helena, and Elara. All three stood over me, their expressions identical: the look of women who had been patient long enough.

"Winner gets my turn," Mira said.

Helena cracked her knuckles. "I’ve been waiting since the construction site."

Elara’s wings fluttered. "I only got the dustbin."

I stared at them. "What?"

They didn’t wait for an answer.

Mira went first. She straddled me — her demoness body, all dark skin and crimson eyes and massive tits — and took my cock inside her in a single drop. She rode me with the efficiency of a woman who had been planning this for a week.

Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"Finally — OUNGH~!! — husband — HAAANGH~!! — I’ve been — AH~!! — killing armies — HIEEENGH~!! — and you’ve been — OUNGH~!! — fucking everything that moves — AAANGH~!!"

I came inside her. She came on me. She climbed off, and Helena took her place.

Helena was slower. Gentler. She rode me with the practiced rhythm of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Her thick body — soft, warm, full — pressed against me. Her tits — enormous, heavy, leaking milk — filled my mouth.

Pah Pah Pah.

"Young master — HAAANGH~!! — you’ve been — OUNGH~!! — very naughty — AH~!!"

I came inside her. She climaxed. She climbed off. Elara took her place.

Elara was frantic. Desperate. Her small body bounced on my cock with the energy of a woman who had been bent over a dustbin and left wanting.

"Master — OUNGH~!! — more — HAAANGH~!! — I need more — AH~!! — HIEEENGH~!!"

I came inside her. She squirted. She collapsed.

Then I ate. They fed me — Mira brought food from the mansion, Helena prepared it, Elara served it. I sat on the rooftop, naked, surrounded by my wives, eating roasted meat and bread and drinking wine while the town slept below.

Then I fucked them again.

All of them. Mira. Helena. Elara. Olivia — who was woken up, bound again, fucked again, released again. Rosalind — who woke up mid-fuck and didn’t question it. Mirin — who thanked me for the honor with every thrust.

The night blurred. Positions changed. Partners rotated. The rooftop became a tangle of bodies — flesh and sweat and cum and milk and moans.

Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"OUNGH~!! HAAANGH~!! AAANGH~!! HIEEENGH~!! AH~!!"

The sounds echoed across the rooftop. If anyone in the town below heard, they said nothing. Perhaps they assumed it was the church. Perhaps they assumed it was the Lord, blessing his followers.

They weren’t wrong.

Finally — sometime before dawn — I lay on the rooftop. Six women surrounded me. Mira on my left, her head on my shoulder. Helena on my right, her hand on my chest. Elara curled against my side, her wings folded. Olivia on my stomach, her belly pressed against mine. Rosalind on my left leg, her thick body warm. Mirin on my right leg, her small frame fitting in the gap.

All six were licking my chest. Kissing my skin. Their tongues tracing my muscles, my scars, my nipples. One mouth on my cock — I couldn’t tell whose. Another on my tail. Hands everywhere. Bodies everywhere. The warm, wet, desperate affection of six women who wanted to consume me.

’These women are going to eat me alive.’

"I would take my leave," I said.

I vanished.

The teleportation was instantaneous. The rooftop disappeared. The hands, the mouths, the bodies — gone. The cold air of dimensional transit wrapped around me, and then—

I fell.

Onto a bed. An empty bed. Soft sheets. A ceiling I didn’t recognize. A room I didn’t know. The capital. I’d teleported to the capital — to the mansion I maintained there, to the bedroom I kept for emergencies. The bed was empty. The room was silent.

I lay there. Naked. Spent. My cock — finally, mercifully limp — lay across my thigh. My tail hung off the bed. My horns had retracted. The moonlight came through the window, painting the ceiling in silver.

In the distance — impossibly far, but clear through the bond — I heard the echoes of six voices, shouting in unison:

"He — he ran away AGAIN!"

I closed my eyes. The silence was beautiful.

"Damn it." I exhaled. A long, slow breath. My body ached — pleasantly, the good kind of ache, the kind that came from being used and using in equal measure. "Doing sex is fun. But it’s very exhausting."

My breathing slowed. The bond hummed — distant, warm, the connection to my wives a constant presence. I could feel their frustration, their amusement, their arousal. They’d find me eventually. They always did. But for now — for this moment — I was alone. In a bed. In silence.

I fell asleep.

"Zzzz-zz-z"