Villain's Breeding System: Evolving 999+ Harem into an SSS-Rank Legion Chapter 321 - Taking One and Heating Up Other

The sound left Veronica like it had been waiting behind a door.

It was raw and full and real — not the managed sound of Veronica performing for him. This was the actual sound produced by the full deep first-thrust of being taken from below in a standing shower with water running over everything.

She bounced.

Her body rose and fell with full heavy rhythmic motion — his hands at her hips drove her up and drove her down with committed pace because he had decided on the rhythm and was maintaining it. Her body rose and fell, the wet slapping sounds filling the enclosed shower space. Her breasts bounced with each downward push, full and swinging with pink nipples, their wet weight moving with the rhythm of the fucking.

Her back pressed against Frau Müller’s breasts.

Veronica’s back slid against the full heavy soft weight of Frau Müller’s breasts with each bounce, the warm skin-on-wet-skin contact making Frau Müller’s brown nipples stiffen against Veronica’s back with every impact.

Frau Müller’s hands stayed at Veronica’s hips.

She held on and supported as asked, her hands at Veronica’s hips with warm structural attention because she had been given a task and was doing it.

And the weight of Veronica’s bouncing transferred.

Each downward push of Raven’s hips and each landing of Veronica on him sent the physical impact through Veronica’s back straight into Frau Müller’s breasts. Each bounce pressed Veronica against her, warm and moving and real, and each press sent the sensation straight into Frau Müller’s already-sensitized, already-stiff, already-receiving nipples.

"Veronica—" Her voice carried clear alarm at what was happening. "What — what are you doing. What is he doing to you? Are you — are you—"

"YES—!!" Veronica answered. The words ca out full and breathless right in the middle of a bounce. "Yes, I am — don’t stop—"

"Don’t STOP?! Veronica, I can feel—"

"Please—" Veronica’s hand found Frau Müller’s hand at her hip. She covered it. She held it. Fingers pressed over fingers with warm real connection.

"Please, Müller — please support —"

Veronica’s red hair.

It flew loose and wet and everywhere — strands flying with the bouncing, the water sending it in every direction, so of it finding Frau Müller’s face with warm wet contact across the cheek because hair went where it wanted in defiance of any managent.

She sputtered.

She pulled Veronica’s wet crimson hair from her lips with one hand while keeping the other at Veronica’s hip, her face showing full comprehensive mortification mixed with arousal as she held the hips of her friend while her friend was being fucked in midair against her chest in a shower.

PAH PAH PAH PHAAACK!

The sounds filled the booth.

The wet rhythmic full slapping of Raven’s hips and Veronica’s body echoed in the enclosed glass booth — amplified by the glass, amplified by the water, the slap of wet skin on wet skin filling the small space with honest raw sound produced by a man fucking a woman thoroughly in a standing shower.

"HARDER—!!" Veronica said.

The demand ca raw and stripped and direct.

The water kept running over all three of them.

"PLEASE—!! DARLING—!! HARDER—!!"

"Ahnn~ Veronica, your back is rubbing—Anghh~!!!"

Frau Müller’s hands gripped Veronica’s hips tighter.

Her palms read every jolt of the woman’s body — every downward slam, every wet clap of flesh resonating through Veronica’s spine and directly into her own chest like a drum beaten from the inside.

Her nipples had no choice.

They dragged against Veronica’s wet back with each bounce, stiff and aching, brown tips pressing in and dragging back out with the slick motion of soaked skin sliding against soaked skin — and the sensation climbed her chest like fingers she hadn’t asked for.

’Sothing is wrong with my chest.’

Her own thought floated loose and helpless inside her skull — not addressing anyone, not answered by anyone, just drifting there while the motion of the fucking pressed Veronica’s clear back against her body again and again.

PAH PAH PAAAH!

"Oungh~!! Hnn~!! AAHNGH~!!"

Her voice cracked on the third — the deepest thrust hitting sowhere that made the word stop existing entirely before it started.

"Veronica—" Frau Müller’s voice had dropped below alarm into sothing rawer and less managed. "Your back — it keeps — I can feel every ti he—"

She could not finish.

Because every ti he drove Veronica down, the impact carried through into her own breasts with that specific slap of another woman’s back against full soft chest weight — and the jiggle that followed was internal, full-body, and entirely without her permission.

Her pussy was wet.

She knew this because she felt it.

She had not asked for this. She had not invited this. She had specifically been not-doing-this for thirty-one years with comprehensive and total success, and now she was standing in a shower with both hands on her friend’s hips and sothing warm and building between her own thighs that had no reasonable explanation except the obvious one.

’It’s the water,’ she told herself. ’It’s only the water.’

It was not only the water.

PAH PAH PAH PAH!

"HIEKK~!! AHH~!! NMMPH—!! RAVEN—!! RAVEN, I’M—!!"

Veronica’s voice broke apart.

Her body arched fully backward — the arch pressing her back hard and flat against Frau Müller’s chest with the full weight and warmth of a woman in the peak of her orgasm — and Frau Müller felt all of it.

The shaking.

The full-body clench.

The way Veronica’s wet hair lashed across her face and stuck there as the crimson strands tangled over her nose and lips.

She felt Veronica’s pussy clenching through the shaking of her hips in her hands.

’How does a woman feel this way and survive it.’

Raven did not stop.

He drove her through it — three more, four more, his hips cracking upward with that flat rciless rhythm that answered Veronica’s orgasm the way a hamr answers a nail.

PAH! PAAAH! PAH PAH!

"AAANGH~!! NHH~!! NO—!! NO MORE—!! RAVEN—!!"

Then he reached the decision she felt before he made it.

His hands moved. She felt the shift through Veronica’s hips — the way his grip changed from rhythm to aim, from fucking to finishing — and then the sound he produced was different.

Lower. Deeper. A single, long, pressed-in stillness.

Veronica’s eyes went wide.

"He’s—" Her voice ca out stripped to almost nothing, barely breath. "He’s — right now — inside my — he’s inside my—"

Her head fell back.

It landed on Frau Müller’s shoulder with the boneless weight of total surrender, the full warmth of Veronica’s cheek finding her neck as Raven pumped the first rope of his load directly through her cervix and into her womb.

"AAHHNN—!!"

Frau Müller felt the cry against her jaw.

She felt Veronica’s entire body shudder — the trembling that ran from her thighs up through her spine and into the hands gripping her hips — and she felt the mont Veronica’s eyes rolled and her body went soft.

Her own nipples hardened.

They stiffened completely, sharp and aching and fully erect — responding to nothing she consented to, responding to the wet warm trembling weight of her friend’s body against hers and the sound of what was being delivered inside her, and the heat of the shower and the grinding of Veronica’s back against her chest over and over until there was nothing left to manage.

She trembled.

Her whole body.