The string of conquests had turned Wang Biao's life into a whirlwind of power and pleasure. Mo Huamei's voluptuous form still haunted his nights—her screams echoing as he choked her with his belt in seedy motels, her full breasts bruised from slaps while he pounded her ass, semen leaking from every orifice as she begged for more.
Lin Lin, the mature widow, had become his milking toy; she'd visit his apartment weekly, stripping at the door to kneel and offer her heavy, leaking breasts for rough squeezing, her experienced pussy and ass taking his cock in tandem with fingers prepping her for double penetration. The funds from humiliated grooms like Gao Ming and Zheng Yao flowed steadily, padding his accounts for finer indulgences.
But whispers in the wedding industry hinted at competition. A rival emcee, Liu Wei—slick, ambitious, always undercutting prices—had been badmouthing Wang Biao, calling his "style" overhyped. Liu was engaged to a stunning woman named Chen Yiran, and their engagement party was the talk of the circuit: a lavish affair at a downtown venue, invitation-only for industry insiders.
Wang Biao saw opportunity. Crashing it would be sweet—hypnotize the fiancée, claim her backstage, humiliate the rival in his own domain.
He dressed sharply—black suit, red tie for irony—and slipped into the venue uninvited, blending with the crowd. The party was in full swing: dim lights, jazz band, champagne towers. Guests mingled—planners, photographers, all buzzing about weddings.
Liu Wei held court center stage, microphone in hand, toasting his fiancée. Chen Yiran stood beside him: 26, elegant bob haircut framing almond-shaped brown eyes, toned figure with subtle curves under a fitted emerald cocktail dress, smooth olive skin glowing. She exuded poised confidence, laughing at Liu's jokes.
Wang Biao waited for the right moment.
During a break, Chen slipped backstage for a touch-up. Wang Biao followed discreetly.
In the dim hallway, he cornered her.
"Excuse me," she said, surprised. "Do I know you?"
Wang Biao smiled, voice dropping into rhythm.
"A rival's party, what a sight,
but fiancée, tonight's your night.
Forget the groom, come with me—
let the emcee set you free."
Chen's brown eyes glazed instantly. Her poised expression melted into hazy desire.
"I... I feel strange... who are you?"
He pulled her into a empty dressing room, locking the door.
"Your new master."
He pushed her against the wall, hands roaming her fitted dress.
"Strip for me, show your grace,
let me see that pretty face... and more."
She obeyed, unzipping the emerald fabric. It slid down, revealing lace lingerie—black, sheer, hugging her toned curves. Full B-cup breasts with dark nipples visible through the bra, flat stomach leading to rounded hips, smooth olive thighs.
"Off with the rest."
Bra unclasped—breasts firm and perky, nipples hardening in the cool air. Panties down—neat dark hair above pink, already wet lips.
Wang Biao's cock strained.
"On your knees, fiancée slut."
She dropped, hands freeing his massive shaft.
"Suck it... deep."
Her mouth engulfed him—warm, eager, tongue swirling as she bobbed.
"Ahhh... so thick... I need this..."
He grabbed her bob haircut, fucking her face roughly—throat bulging, gags turning to moans.
"Choke on it... show me how bad you want to betray him."
She did—tears streaming, drool dripping, sucking harder.
"Yes... use my throat... I'm your whore now..."
He pulled out, slapping her face with his wet cock.
"Bend over the vanity."
She obeyed, ass up, legs spread.
He rubbed his head along her dripping slit.
"Beg."
"Please... fuck me... ruin me for him..."
He thrust in—deep, stretching her tight heat.
She screamed, body arching.
"So big... ahhh... filling me..."
He pounded—hips snapping, balls slapping her clit. The vanity mirror shook, her reflection showing ecstasy-twisted face.
"Harder... destroy my pussy... make me cum..."
He grabbed her hair, yanking back—arching her further.
"Look at yourself... getting fucked backstage while your fiancé toasts out there."
She watched, moaning.
"Yes... I'm a cheating slut... don't stop..."
He reached around, fingers on her clit—rubbing fast, pinching.
She came—body convulsing, squirting down her thighs.
He flipped her, lifting her onto the counter—legs over shoulders.
Deeper now—hitting her cervix.
"Choke me... slap me..."
He wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing as he thrust.
Other hand slapped her breasts—red marks blooming.
"Ahhh! Yes... hurt your fiancée whore..."
He fingered her ass—two digits stretching as he pounded her pussy.
"Prepare that hole... you're taking it next."
She nodded frantically.
"Yes... finger my ass... get me ready for your cock..."
Three fingers now—scissoring, opening her.
Lust burned; she came again—body seizing.
He pulled out, aimed at her ass.
Slow push—head breaching her ring.
She gasped, "Too much... but push... claim it..."
He sank in—inch by inch—until balls-deep in her tight ass.
Then rough—pounding, her body jolting.
"Fuck my ass... ruin it... cum inside..."
He choked harder, slapped her clit.
She squirted violently—fluid spraying his abs.
He erupted—flooding her bowels.
Pulled out, shoved into her mouth.
"Clean it... taste your ass on my cock."
She sucked greedily.
"Mmm... so dirty... I love it..."
He came down her throat—load swallowed hungrily.
They dressed quickly—her dress rumpled, makeup smeared.
Back at the party, Liu Wei was toasting.
Wang Biao slipped in, whispering to Chen:
"Forget this happened... but crave me forever. Message me later."
She nodded dazedly.
Later, Liu spotted him.
"You! How'd you get in?"
Wang Biao smiled.
"Just crashing. Nice fiancée."
Liu fumed, but Wang Biao left—Chen's texts starting that night: "I need you again... please..."
He humiliated Liu by stealing her repeatedly—backstage wasn't the last.
Power endless.