Chapter 873 - 872- Yuki’s Dilemma

Chapter 873: Chapter 872- Yuki’s Dilemma

His pants came down. His cock swung free.

Yuki stared.

It was big. Bigger than Aldric’s. Not just longer—thicker. The shaft was dark and veined, the head flushed and heavy. It hung between his legs like it belonged there, like it was perfectly natural for a professor to be standing in his office with his cock out while two women stood in varying states of undress.

"What—" Yuki’s voice failed. She tried again. "What is that for, exactly?"

"The mana transfer," Viktor said. As if that explained everything.

He turned to the desk and cleared a space. He sat on the edge, legs apart, cock jutting from his lap. He patted the surface beside him.

"Sofia. Up."

Sofia moved with the practiced ease of a woman who’d done this before. She sat up, swung her legs off the desk, and stood. Her body caught the candlelight—all that warm brown skin, the bite marks on her neck, the swell of her breasts, the dark hair between her legs still damp. She walked to Viktor and turned around, presenting her back to him.

She climbed onto his lap. Reverse cowgirl. Her legs spread on either side of his thighs. Her ass, round and heavy, hovered above his cock. She reached down between her legs, took his shaft in her hand, and positioned the head at her entrance.

She slammed down.

"HNNGH—!!"

The sound that came out of Sofia was raw. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened. Her thighs tensed. The cock, which had been at her entrance, was now buried to the hilt. Her pussy swallowed it. The lips stretched around the shaft, dark and slick and swollen.

Yuki yelled. "What are you doing, Sofia?!"

Sofia gasped. Her hands gripped Viktor’s knees. She pulled up—her pussy dragging along the shaft, the lips clinging, the head almost popping free—and then slammed down again.

"Ah—!! I’m—trying to get healed—by the Professor—HAAH—!!"

Sofia’s voice was broken. Each word came between bounces. Her ass clapped against Viktor’s thighs. The sound, wet and sharp, filled the office. Her breasts swung with each impact. The bite marks on her neck caught the light.

"But how can—this is wrong, Professor!" Yuki’s voice cracked. She was staring. She couldn’t stop staring. Sofia’s body, rising and falling. Viktor’s cock, disappearing and reappearing. The wet sounds. The smell—musk and sweat and arousal—that thickened the air.

Viktor’s eyes found Yuki’s over Sofia’s shoulder. "Come here. Help her."

"How?!"

He reached. His hand found Yuki’s arm. The grip was firm. He pulled. She stumbled forward. He guided her—lifted her, really, with one arm around her waist—and set her on the desk beside him. Then he shifted her. Moved her body. Positioned her.

Before she understood what was happening, she was sitting on his face.

His mouth found her pussy.

"PROFESSOR—!!"

The sensation hit her like a wall of heat. His tongue, broad and wet, dragged from the bottom of her slit to the top. The hair, which she’d been so ashamed of, was pushed aside by his mouth. The lips, which had been closed, parted under his tongue. He found her clit. Licked. Sucked.

Yuki’s hands flew to the desk. Her fingers gripped the wood. Her back arched. Her legs, which were on either side of his head, tensed.

’What is happening—what is happening to me—why is he—why does it feel—’

Sofia was bouncing. The rhythm was steady. The sound of her ass hitting Viktor’s thighs was a metronome. Her moans, which came with each downstroke, were a counterpoint to the wet sounds of Viktor’s mouth on Yuki’s pussy.

Pah. Pah. Pah.

"Hnngh—!! Ah—!! Professor—!! HAAH—!!"

Sofia’s voice was high. Desperate. Her hands gripped Viktor’s knees. Her back was arched. Her breasts swung with each bounce. The cock, which was inside her, stretched her walls with each impact. The head hit her cervix. She cried out each time.

Yuki’s body was reacting. She didn’t want it to. She wanted to pull away. To stand up. To run. But her legs were locked. Her hands were gripping the desk. Her hips, which had been still, began to move. Small motions. Grinding. Her body was rubbing itself against Viktor’s face.

’Why am I doing this? Why does it feel good? I love Aldric. I love him. This is wrong. This is—’

His tongue found her entrance. Pushed in. The muscle, which was strong and flexible, entered her. The walls, which had been tight, gripped. The sensation, which was new—Aldric had never done this, had never put his mouth on her, had never even offered—was overwhelming.

"Ah—!! Ah—!! No—!! Professor—!! Please—!!"

Her voice was breaking. The moans, which she was trying to hold back, escaped. Her body, which she was trying to control, moved on its own. Her hips rolled. Her thighs tightened around his head. Her hands, which had been on the desk, found his hair. Her fingers gripped. Pulled.

Sofia was still bouncing. The pace had increased. Her moans, which had been rhythmic, became erratic. Her body, which had been steady, began to tremble. The orgasm, which had been building, crested.

"HAAAH—!! PROFESSOR—!! I’M—!! AAANGH—!!"

Sofia slammed down. Held. Her body went rigid. Her thighs clenched. Her back arched. Her pussy, which was full of cock, clamped. The walls, which had been gripping, convulsed. The cum, which had been building, flooded. The fluid ran down Viktor’s shaft and pooled on the desk.

Yuki saw it. Over her shoulder. She saw Sofia’s face, twisted with orgasm. She saw the body, rigid and shaking. She saw the cock, buried inside, pulsing. The sight, which should have been disturbing, was arousing. Her body, which was already on edge, responded. The heat, which had been building in her core, surged.

Viktor’s tongue, which had been inside her, pulled out. His mouth moved to her clit. His lips closed around it. He sucked. Hard. The sensation, which was direct and intense, was too much.

"NO—!! I’M—!! AH—!! AH—!! AAAAAH—!!"

Yuki’s body broke. The orgasm, which had been building since his mouth first touched her, exploded. Her back arched off the desk. Her legs, which had been around his head, went rigid. Her thighs clamped. Her hands, which had been in his hair, pulled. Her eyes, which had been open, rolled. The whites showed. Her mouth fell open. Her tongue, pink and wet, extended.

She squirted. The fluid, thin and hot, hit Viktor’s face. The stream, which was not a trickle but a gush, ran down his chin and onto his neck. Her body convulsed. Her hips bucked. Her pussy, which was dripping, clenched and released and clenched again.

The sound that came out of her was not a moan. It was a sob. A broken, gasping, shuddering sob that came from somewhere deeper than her throat. The pleasure, which was too much, was also pain. The release, which was physical, was also grief. She was coming on a professor’s face while another woman rode his cock, and the man she loved couldn’t get hard, and nothing about this was what she’d wanted, and her body didn’t care about any of that.

Her legs gave out. She slid off his face. Landed on the desk. Her body, which was still convulsing, curled. Her hands, which had been gripping his hair, released. Her fingers, which were shaking, found the wood. She gripped it. Held on. The aftershocks, which were still rolling through her, made her twitch.

Viktor’s face was wet. Her juices, which had sprayed across his chin and mouth, glistened in the candlelight. He licked his lips. His eyes, which had been on Yuki, moved to Sofia.

Sofia, who had been slumped forward, was still impaled on his cock. Her body, which had been trembling from her own orgasm, was limp. Her head hung. Her horns, which caught the light, were the only part of her that seemed steady.

The room was quiet. The only sounds were breathing. Yuki’s, which was ragged. Sofia’s, which was deep. Viktor’s, which was controlled.

Viktor reached up. His hand found Yuki’s thigh. He squeezed. The touch, which was warm and firm, was a claim.

"Good girl," he said. His voice was low. The words were not a professor’s words. They were a lover’s words. A owner’s words.

Yuki’s eyes, which had been closed, opened. She looked at him. At the wet face. At the violet eyes, which were calm and certain. At the mouth, which had just been on her pussy, smiling.

’What have I done?’

The thought was clear. Sharp. The kind of thought that cuts through everything else and leaves nothing behind.

’What have I done?’