Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 903: Patricia’s Plea (r-18)

Margaret straddled my hips before I could sit up—weight settling heavy, thighs clamping tight around like a vice, dress riding up to expose pale skin, black lace panties already soaked dark at the crotch, the wet fabric clinging obscenely to swollen lips.

Patricia climbed beside us, fingers finally managing the zipper to open it completely—teeth rasping down in a slow, filthy drag. She tugged my pants and boxers lower over my hips in one impatient yank.

My cock still stood proud—heavy, thick, already painfully rigid and flushed a deep, angry crimson at the head. Veins stood out along the shaft like thick cords under taut skin, pulsing visibly with each heartbeat, the whole length twitching upward as blood surged through it.

It curved slightly upward, Margaret’s manicured hands looked small when they wrapped around the base—fingers barely eting, thumb saring the leaking precum and their saliva in slow, deliberate circles.

They both froze for a heartbeat—staring. Breaths hitching. Eyes locked on the obscene, throbbing reality of .

They descended again together

Two MILF mouths. One teenager cock.

Margaret’s lips closed around the left side of the head; Patricia’s around the right. They kissed over the tip—soft, wet, sharing the fat bead of precum that welled up between them.

Tongues flicked out simultaneously, sliding along the sensitive slit, lapping at the leaking opening like cats at cream—slow, deliberate, savoring every salty drop.

Their mouths overlapped—lips brushing, sliding against each other, tongues tangling over the swollen crown—wetness saring between them, strings of saliva and precum connecting their mouths to my cock when they pulled back for air, thick glistening bridges that snapped and dripped onto my shaft.

They stared at each other and slowed.

Margaret sucked the big head into her mouth—deep, deliberate—cheeks hollowing as she took quarter of the length, tongue pressing flat against the underside vein that jumped and throbbed under the wet heat.

She held there, throat fluttering around the crown, humming low so the vibration rippled straight through .

Patricia kissed down the shaft—open-mouthed pulls along every veined inch, tongue tracing the thick ridges, lips dragging slick trails that glistened and shone in the low light.

She sucked softly at the base, drawing one heavy ball into her mouth—wet, obscene pop—tongue swirling around the sensitive skin while her hand stroked the shaft in slow, twisting pulls that made more precum ooze out in thick beads.

Wetness everywhere.

Saliva dripped from Margaret’s lips when she pulled off—thick, shining strands connecting her swollen mouth to the head, stretching and snapping as she breathed.

Patricia’s tongue left wet tracks along the shaft that caught the light, making every vein stand out slick and glossy. They kissed again—over the tip this ti—mouths eting around the crown, lips sliding against each other, tongues tangling and sliding, sharing the taste of in ssy, open-mouthed pulls.

They looked so hot right now I was fighting the urge to co or pull them and fuck them right away.

Drool and precum mixed, dripping down the shaft in slow, viscous rivulets that coated their fingers as they stroked, pooling at my balls in warm, slippery puddles.

Then the speed built.

Margaret took deeper—throat relaxing, lips stretching wide around the girth—until her nose brushed my pubic bone, throat convulsing around the head in rhythmic swallows.

She held there—gagging softly, eyes watering—then pulled off slow, strings of spit and precum connecting her lips to the crown in long, glistening ropes.

Patricia dove in imdiately—fast now—sucking hard, head bobbing in quick, needy pulls that made wet, filthy gluck-gluck-gluck sounds fill the room. Spit bubbled at the corners of her mouth, ran in rivulets down her chin, dripped onto my balls in warm splatters.

They alternated—Margaret fast and deep, throat fucking herself on until tears streaked her cheeks; Patricia quick and sloppy, lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowing with suction that pulled fresh precum in steady leaks.

Mouths overlapped again at the head—both tongues lashing the slit, both sets of lips sucking at the sa ti, cheeks hollowing in unison, saliva dripping in thick ropes down my shaft and balls, pooling on the sheets beneath in a dark, wet stain.

They were ssy.

Gloriously, shalessly ssy MILFs.

Drool ran down their chins, sared across their cheeks when they kissed over the head—lips sliding, tongues tangling, tasting each other and in equal asure.

Precum leaked steadily now—each hard suck drawing fresh beads that they lapped up like it was nectar, tongues flicking the slit in rapid flutters.

Their hands worked in tandem—Margaret stroking the base in tight, twisting pulls that made my cock swell thicker; Patricia cupping my balls, rolling them gently, then squeezing just enough to make my hips jerk and another thick rope of precum spurt onto their tongues.

I groaned—low, guttural—head falling back against the pillow, hips lifting involuntarily to chase the wet heat.

Margaret pulled off with a wet, obscene pop—spit stringing from her swollen, shining lips to the crown. S

he looked up at —eyes wild lips puffy and red.

Patricia’s mouth was still on —sucking slow now, tongue swirling around the head like she was savoring every drop, every pulse.

She pulled off just long enough to whisper against the slick, shining skin:

"Please."

One word.

One plea.

And in that single syllable—please—I heard everything she’d never said out loud: years of negative tests, quiet grief in empty rooms, the hollow ache of being told impossible, the desperate hope that maybe—just maybe—this impossible man could make the impossible real.

I reached down. Threaded my fingers through their hair—Margaret’s sleek and perfect, now mussed and damp with sweat; Patricia’s soft and slightly tangled—and guided them back.

"Both of you," I said quietly, voice rough with need. "Both of you are going to get what you ca for. I promise."

They dove in again.

Faster.

Deeper.

Mouths overlapping, tongues tangling, wetness everywhere—spit, precum, the slick, filthy sounds of suction and swallowing and gagging filling the room like a symphony of depravity. Margaret deep-throating until her throat bulged visibly, tears streaming; Patricia lapping frantically at the shaft, then switching—fast, relentless, ssy, desperate.

They worshipped.