Chapter 821 - 820- Kissing the well fucked Bitch

Chapter 821: Chapter 820- Kissing the well fucked Bitch

His arms went around her, from behind. His hands found her breasts. Both of them. He grabbed. Squeezed. The soft flesh, heavy and leaking, overflowed his palms. The milk, thin and sweet, ran over his fingers.

He pulled. The breasts stretched. The nipples, distended, leaked. The milk, arcing from each nipple, hit the ground. The display, in front of the woman, was deliberate. A statement. A demonstration.

He looked at Johana. His violet eyes, behind the mask, met her pink and gray ones. He held the gaze. While his hands, on the mother-in-law’s breasts, squeezed. While his cock, inside the mother-in-law’s pussy, throbbed. While his cum, deep in her womb, pulsed.

He tilted the mother-in-law’s chin. His hand, wet with milk, found her jaw. Turned her face. The veil, dislodged, fell away. Her lips, full and swollen, were visible. Her nose, slightly upturned. Her eyes, rolled back and vacant. Her tongue, pink and limp, hanging from her mouth.

He kissed her.

His lips found hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth. The kiss was deep. Wet. The sound, slurping and sloppy, filled the alley. The mother-in-law, barely conscious, responded. Her tongue, weak and uncoordinated, found his. The kiss, in front of the woman, in front of the crowd, was a declaration.

Johana’s eyes widened.

’That face. Those lips. That nose. Even through the... even with the... I know that face. I know this woman.’

Her internal thoughts raced. The recognition, sudden and shocking, hit like a thunderbolt. The woman being fucked against the tree. The collared, milk-leaking, cum-filled woman with the milky skin and the saggy breasts and the thick body. The woman whose son-in-law was fucking her in a slum.

’She is... she is the Countess. The Countess Thorne. The wife of Count Aldric. I have seen her at noble gatherings. I have seen her face. I know this woman.’

’And this man is fucking her. His mother-in-law. A countess. In a slum. In front of criminals. In front of me.’

’What kind of man is this?’

Viktor broke the kiss. A string of saliva, mixed with milk, connected their lips. The mother-in-law, her face revealed, hung limp in his arms. Her mouth, open and wet, gasped. Her eyes, half-open and unfocused, stared at nothing.

"I am not among those people," Viktor said. His voice was calm. His eyes, on Johana, were steady. "As you can already see."

His hands, still on the mother-in-law’s breasts, squeezed. The milk, thin and continuous, ran over his fingers. He pulled. The nipples stretched. The breasts, heavy and soft, deformed under his grip.

"I have got quite good breeding horse here," he said. The words were deliberate. Chosen. The language of a man who wanted to provoke. "Why would I fuck someone like your mother?"

The words landed. Johana’s composure, already cracked, took another hit. Her eyes, behind the mask, flickered. The mention of her mother. The comparison. The dismissal.

’He is not one of the pastors. He is not one of the men who... who did what they did to mother. He is something else. Something different. Something worse.’

She swallowed. The reaction, visible in the movement of her throat above the mask, was the only sign of the internal turmoil. Her eyes, after a moment, steadied. The composure, rebuilt, settled back into place.

"That makes sense," she said. Her voice was flat. Neutral. The voice of a woman who had processed the information and filed it away for later analysis.

She looked around. At the crowd. At the criminals, still standing in their impotent, frustrated semicircle. At the mother-in-law, hanging limp in Viktor’s arms, her pussy dripping cum onto the dirt. At the tree, the bark scraped and wet. At the wall, streaked with milk.

"We cannot talk here," Johana said. Her eyes came back to Viktor. Firm. Decisive. "Follow me."

She turned. Walked. Her pink and gray hair, catching the dim light of the slum, swayed behind her. Her stride was quick. Purposeful. The stride of a woman who knew where she was going and expected to be followed.

Viktor looked down at the mother-in-law. Her body, limp and trembling, was still impaled on his cock. Her pussy, still clenching weakly, held him. Her breasts, heavy and leaking, hung from her chest. Her face, revealed and recognized, was slack. Vacant. The face of a woman who had been fucked past the point of thought.

He pulled out. His cock, slick with cum and her fluids, emerged with a wet sound. The mother-in-law gasped at the sudden emptiness. Her pussy, gaping and leaking, dripped. The cum, thick and white, ran from her entrance. Down her thighs. Onto the ground.

He tucked his cock away. Zipped his trousers. Adjusted his coat. The transformation, from the beast fucking his mother-in-law against a tree to the composed nobleman in a dark coat, took three seconds.

He grabbed the rope. Still attached to her collar. Still the leash of a woman who had been paraded through the slums and fucked in front of criminals.

"Come, mother-in-law," he said. His voice was warm. Teasing. The voice of a husband calling his wife to dinner. "We have been invited."

She stirred. Her body, trembling and wrecked, straightened slowly. Her hands, shaking, found her skirt. Pulled it down. Covered herself. The fabric, stained with dust and milk and cum, hung limp over her thighs. Her panties, still around her ankles, tangled her feet. She stepped out of them. Left them on the ground.

She walked. Barefoot, cum-leaking, milk-stained. Behind him. On the rope. Through the crowd of impotent, frustrated, fascinated criminals.

They parted. Let them through. The men, their eyes still hungry but their bodies unresponsive, watched the thick woman walk past. Her ass, barely covered by the ruined skirt, swayed with each step. The cum, visible on her thighs, glistened in the dim light.

Johana led them. Through the alley. Through a narrow passage between two crumbling buildings. Into a door, hidden in the shadow of a collapsed wall. Down a staircase. Into a room, underground, lit by enchanted lanterns.

The door closed behind them.

Krieeekkk