Melissa's painted lips stretched obscenely around the fat crown of Phei's Dragon, her jaw already trembling from the sheer girth. A thick ribbon of spit escaped the corner of her mouth the instant she forced another inch inside, dripping in a long silver strand that landed on the marble between her knees.
She pulled off with a wet pop, gasping, eyes glassy with lust.
"Too big," she whimpered, voice hoarse, "I can't even—fuck, look at it."
Her hands never stopped moving. Both manicured palms stroked the slick shaft in slow, reverent twists, spreading her own saliva over every throbbing vein. Her wedding ring caught the light with every pump, a mocking reminder of the vows she was about to choke on.
She set the phone down with deliberate care—propped it against a canister of utensils, lens aimed low and wide.
The frame took in everything.
Phei's eyes narrowed, then widened—just a fraction—as realization settled, dark and electric.
She was filming this here. In the heart of the house Harold paid for. On the same counter where family breakfasts had been served, where she'd once scolded Phei for existing too loudly.
A slow, dangerous smile pulled at his mouth.
She wanted the desecration documented. Not in the anonymity of a bedroom, but right here—where the ordinary would be forever stained by what was about to happen.
"Recording it in Harold's kitchen, Aunt Melissa? Going to watch this later while you make his dinner—remember how your nephew bent you over the same counter he eats from?"
Her breath fractured. A visible shudder ran through her. She didn't deny it. Couldn't.
Phei just watched, arms loose at his sides, letting the Dominance Aura roll off him in waves. The kitchen smelled like sex now: her dripping cunt, his leaking cock, the faint perfume on her skin turning musky with need.
Melissa's gaze flicked up to his, pleading. Then she reached behind her back with shaking fingers and snapped the clasp of her red lace bra.
The cups fell away and her massive tits spilled free, heavy, perfect 34Ds that hadn't sagged a millimeter despite her age, pale creamy flesh capped with thick pink nipples already stiff and begging.
She didn't hesitate.
She spat once, a saliva landed right between her tits, then pressed them together around the base of his Dragon.
Holy fuck.
The contrast was obscene. Her enormous breasts, soft, warm, impossibly plush, swallowed the first eight inches of his shaft completely, yet more than half the monstrous length still jutted upward like a spear, angry and glistening, the swollen head kissing the hollow of her throat.
"Still so much left," she moaned, voice cracking with awe. "Your cock is bigger than my fucking tits, Phei."
She started moving.
Up and down, slow at first, letting him feel every inch of that velvet tunnel she'd made for him.
Her tits jiggled with every stroke, the slick sound of spit-slick skin filling the kitchen. Drool poured from her open mouth, cascading over the head and running down into her cleavage, making everything wetter, sloppier.
Then she leaned forward and sucked the exposed crown back into her mouth while still fucking him with her tits.
The sensation was unreal.
Hot, wet suction on the head, tongue swirling frantically around the slit, lashing the sensitive underside, while the rest of his Dragon disappeared again and again between those massive, pillowy breasts.
Every time she pushed down, her nipples dragged along the veined length; every time she pulled up, her lips made a filthy wet seal around the crown before popping off with a lewd gasp.
"Glllk—mmph—glk—" The sounds coming from her throat were pure pornographic filth, gagging and slurping as she tried to take more, her mascara already starting to run in black streaks down her cheeks.
Phei groaned, fingers tightening in her hair. "That's it. Worship your Dragon like how desperate you are."
She moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight to his balls. Her hips were grinding air now, thighs trembling, a steady drip of pussy juice running down the inside of one stocking.
Faster.
Her tits bounced harder, slapping wetly against his thighs. Spit flew in ropes every time she pulled her mouth off to breathe, only to dive back down and swallow the head again. The upper half of his shaft was coated in a thick layer of her saliva, shining like it had been oiled, veins pulsing visibly under the sheen.
"Look at me," Phei commanded, voice rough.
She did.
Big blue eyes, ruined makeup, lips stretched impossibly wide around his girth, tears of effort glistening on her lashes. She looked completely, utterly broken, and loving every second of it.
"Tell me what you are," he growled.
She popped off just long enough to gasp, tits still pumping him furiously.
"I'm your dragon cock-worshipping aunt," she whimpered, voice wrecked. "Your married cum-dump. Your personal tit-slut. Please, baby, use me, mark me, ruin me, just never take this perfect Dragon away from me—"
Then she dove back down, taking him deeper than before, her throat visibly bulging as the head forced its way in, tits still squeezing and stroking the endless inches she couldn't reach.
Phei's hips jerked once, involuntary.
He was close.
And from the way Melissa was frantically humping the air, drooling, moaning, her entire body shaking with the need to be claimed, she knew it.
She wanted every drop.
And she was going to fucking earn it.
Phei's fingers twisted tighter in her hair, guiding her rhythm now, slow, deliberate, merciless. Her tits kept fucking him in long, wet strokes while her throat fluttered around the head every time she swallowed him deeper.
Slurp—gluk—slurp—gluk— The kitchen echoed with the obscene symphony of her worship: wet flesh slapping, desperate choking, the constant drip of her pussy hitting the marble like a metronome of pure need.
"Look at you," he rasped, voice gravel and smoke. "Forty-three years old, married, three kids… and you're on your knees in your own kitchen choking on your nephew's fat cock like it's the only thing keeping you alive."
Melissa whimpered around the mouthful, eyes rolling back. A fresh flood of slick gushed down her thighs at his words, splattering audibly on the floor.
He could feel it building, that molten pressure coiling at the base of his spine. His balls drew up tight, heavy, aching, swollen with a load that felt twice the size of last night's.
"Hands off," he ordered suddenly.
She obeyed instantly, letting her massive tits fall apart, the Dragon springing free with a wet slap against his abs, now a glistening, angry-red monument coated in her spit from root to tip, veins throbbing visibly.
Phei gripped the base himself, angling the bloated head toward her upturned face.
"Open. Tongue out. Beg for it."
Melissa's mouth fell open wide, pink tongue lolling like a bitch in heat. Thick ropes of saliva bridged from her lower lip to her chin, dripping onto her heaving tits.
"Please," she gasped, voice completely broken. "Please cum on me, baby. Paint your aunt's face. Mark your married whore. I need it, I need your hot load all over me, please—"
He stroked once. Twice.
The first rope erupted like a cannon.
A thick, white jet that lashed across her forehead, into her hair, splattering in heavy streaks.
The second blasted straight into her open mouth, coating her tongue, filling her cheeks until it overflowed and poured down her chin in creamy rivers.
Third, fourth, fifth, each one just as voluminous, just as forceful, painting her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyelids. One shot high enough to stripe across the top of her tits, dripping into the valley between them.
She moaned like she was cumming herself, body convulsing, her untouched pussy clenching so hard that a visible gush of girl-cum squirted onto the floor between her knees.
Phei kept going.
Six, seven, eight ropes, more cum than any human man should ever produce, until Melissa's face was utterly glazed, thick layers of seed sliding down her skin in slow, obscene globs. It clung to her lashes, dripped from her chin in heavy strands, pooled in the hollow of her collarbone and ran in rivulets between her tits.
When the last spurt finally oozed from the slit, he dragged the still-throbbing head across her ruined face, smearing his spend into her skin like war paint.
Melissa stayed on her knees, trembling, eyes half-lidded in total bliss.
She looked like a cum-drunk goddess.
Slowly, reverently, she lifted her hands and began scooping the mess from her face, sucking it greedily from her fingers, rubbing the rest into her tits like the most expensive lotion in the world.
"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely, voice thick with worship. "Thank you for your seed, baby… thank you for letting your dirty aunt taste heaven…"
Phei's Dragon, still rock-hard and glistening, twitched against his stomach.
He smiled down at her, dark and possessive.
"We're just getting started, Aunt Melissa."
Because now that he'd marked her face with his cum, the only place left to brand her permanently… was deep inside her womb.
*****
A/N: Guys, I do not feel your love yet, everything going as you lik or not? Tell me what you think!