The Wicked System: Path of the Devourer Chapter 36 Like Mother, Like Daughter

Xu Fei felt like she was losing her mind. All night — built up and let down over and over. Nearly to her own first climax when her daughter's situation forced her back from the edge, and then the egg was still running inside her and she had to use willpower to override it. Now she was hyper-focused on cleaning, pushing herself back from another brink just by sheer resolution.

She hated this. Torture. Hope given, then taken. Never landing. For a grown, needy woman in her prime, it was unambiguous suffering.

She went at the small entrance with frenzied, almost desperate attention, trying to redirect her own body's noise into the act.

"All that fluid in your daughter's little hole — so satisfying, isn't it? Your tongue was already digging inside. Next time you service Master's rear, I expect the same enthusiasm."

Zhang Wenbin sat to the side, observing with quiet pleasure. The loli's upper body rested on the mattress in a flush of high, heated pink, knees bent to hold the bottom up, moaning softly at the continued stimulation. Her mother was transfixed — both hands parting those small cheeks, licking the pink entrance with evident hunger, swallowing everything without hesitation — her daughter's arousal included.

The egg inside Xu Fei went on uninterrupted. She rocked her hips slightly where she knelt, making muffled, helpless sounds, every cell in her adult body straining at the edge.

"The battery holds up well."

"Teacher has worked so hard tonight. That kind of good behavior deserves a reward."

Zhang Wenbin moved to her side and bent to press his lips to her generous bottom — then reached slowly between her legs and began working the egg free from her fullness, drawing it out at an agonizing pace, feeling her mature body shiver with every millimeter.

Xu Fei let out a mnnh— of loss. Even that was gone now. Instinctively she swayed her bottom — asking.

The egg came free glistening with her arousal, and Zhang Wenbin smiled. He studied the delicate back entrance his eyes had found — so similar to her daughter's — and pressed the egg firmly against it, easing it inward as Xu Fei's helpless trembling crested into a sustained moan.

She let out a sharp cry and arched her back, bottom swaying hard with restless need.

Her own back entrance had never been touched. For one instant she could absolutely imagine what her daughter had felt, and the shame was immense — but at the same time there was nothing unpleasant about it; after the initial shock, what followed was an entirely different species of stimulation.

"Let your tongue be your daughter's aftercare, Teacher — and have your own climax while you do it."

Zhang Wenbin said it while his left hand closed around her large breast and squeezed — a little rough — and his right hand covered her outer pussy, pressing to feel the vibration of the egg through the skin.

The rough palm sealed everything at once. And then those fingers — each one moving like it had its own mind — broke through every defense at simultaneous angles.

His index finger worked the swollen clit in deep presses. His middle two fingers went inside the burning, slick channel and curled — drawing and digging at speed, finding the fabled G-spot and staying there. He was thrusting in and out as well, at a pace that didn't seem physically possible for a single hand.

The thumb ground circles against the forward hood. And each finger operated independently, the speed between them breathtaking.

First violation of the back entrance. The egg humming inside it. And then this — this impossible unfolding of sensation from everywhere at once. Xu Fei shrieked — her mouth still pressed to her daughter's back entrance, mind already white — as a rush of pleasure tore through her like a dam giving way, flooding every nerve in her body with something blinding and huge.

She cried out twice, body rigid and shaking, hips driving hard into his hand, every instinct screaming to take more — and in this most shameful possible moment, the release that had been building all night finally came, and its force was something this mature, experienced woman could barely contain.

She collapsed forward — onto her daughter's body — both of them horizontal, legs apart, tangled together, panting in long, shuddering waves. A moment later, and a moment after.

Xu Fei's climax hit equally hard. Zhang Wenbin paced his aftercare — slowing his hand down carefully before withdrawing — trailing his wet fingers across the bedsheet. He felt a small moment of frustrated aesthetics: Xu Fei hadn't squirted like her daughter. If she had, it would have been perfect.

Still — she'd produced enough. A slow trickle ran downward and dripped across her daughter's pink outer lips below, which — at this angle, in this light — had a kind of accidental visual poetry to it.

Both women's full lips were an utter ruin, glistening wet. The inner flesh of each pulsed gently, rhythmically open — in climax's last tremors — and the frequency of those pulses was almost identical. Like mother, like daughter even there.

Even manipulated by hand alone — and perhaps because the loneliness had been too long, or the night's torment too sustained — the pleasure's quality had been crystal-clear and overwhelming. Sharper by far than any solitary release, which was always cold and functional. This was real.

It took Xu Fei a long time to come back. Eventually Zhang Wenbin smoked a cigarette and, once she'd rested long enough, reached over and flipped her body upright — then caught a breast from each woman and squeezed, relishing the contrast.

Xu Fei's face was still flushed and dreaming, half-open lips even more beautiful than usual, calling back everything his memory held of her mouth's performance.

An entire night of this had dulled her. She was letting herself imagine, shamelessly, what came next. She even reached forward — trembling — to run her fingers over his eight defined abs, murmuring: "Master, your body is extraordinary."

"Ha — turns out Teacher has a hungry eye."

Zhang Wenbin laughed easily, and scooped the loli up in a princess carry. Xu Fei pushed herself sitting in one smooth motion — the elegance of it somehow more seductive for what had just happened — and said: "It's the same for everyone, isn't it? Men and women are the same. Women just perform more. When we actually want something we're even more shameless than men — we just pretend otherwise at first."

"In university the boys all talked about games and sports occasionally. In our dorm, we never talked about bags or makeup. We talked about men. More explicit than anything the boys probably managed. Sometimes we'd all watch together and give our notes."

"And once a woman actually decides she wants something — she's very direct about it. The shy act is just the beginning."

"Is that so? Give me an example."

A grown, sophisticated woman is something different, Zhang Wenbin thought — this conversation would have been unimaginable from the cold, poised music teacher she'd been at the start.

Xu Fei's eyes went to the softened length — and she gave a bright, private laugh. "An example: in the beginning I was embarrassed. Now I realize I love having Master's cock in my mouth. Unwashed is better — there was a faint smell when you first arrived, a little like urine, and that was somehow more exciting."

"Teacher is a dirty woman — you like the taste of piss?"

Zhang Wenbin was grinning.

"Only Master's," Xu Fei corrected, and held his gaze with an expression that was entirely soft ruin.

She'd let herself go entirely.

They carried the loli back to her own room and Xu Fei set about the work — dressing her daughter, tucking the blanket around her — every motion careful and practiced, as if nothing had happened, as if she were simply any mother settling her daughter for the night. It would have been believable if not for the residue of the evening on both of them.

A sophisticated woman — a woman with genuine willpower — accepts reality and adapts to it. No doubt she was already calculating how to recoup value from the price she'd paid.

Zhang Wenbin, sticky with perspiration and tired of it, found himself a shower, making quiet note of how much better the facilities here were than anything he'd had before.

He was, at heart, a poor man who'd never seen much luxury. The tens of thousands of resentful souls inside him were all from earlier centuries and hadn't exactly been exposed to modern comfort either. The result was that in spite of everything else the system had done for him, it had never managed to cultivate the detached, otherworldly manner of a true immortal.

"Master, shall I wash you?"

"Next time. You're too slow — I'm already done."

He was tempted. But with two releases behind him the edge was off, and he could see through the flattery easily enough — so he declined.

"Then at least let me dry you. I can't have Master drying himself in my home."

She'd thought it through, and now she was fully cooperative — she came in with a towel, and while she dried him down she said with practiced, deliberate warmth, "Master's body is magnificent. Those models on television — their muscles don't compare to yours."

Zhang Wenbin floated on it slightly. "Mine is ordinary. You've never seen competitive bodybuilders."

"Those look grotesque — like monsters. Who would actually want that?"

"It's this kind of body that's beautiful. Proportional, and you can feel the strength in it. And Master is handsome on top of everything — young and wolfish-looking — I suddenly feel like I'm the one taking advantage of a younger man."

Xu Fei let out a delighted laugh — the pure sound of it deliberately deployed.

Even knowing it was performance, Zhang Wenbin couldn't deny it worked.

When she reached his back she crouched down, kissed his bottom once before she dried it, and said mildly: "Your muscles here are firm too — hard as iron."

"Ha — that's nothing. You know very well which part of me is hardest."

"Of course I do. Hard and delicious."

She cast him a look that was liquid warmth from low in her lashes, then gracefully sank to both knees in front of him, picked up a pair of men's slippers, and looked up to lift one foot.

He lifted his foot — and she placed the sole flat against her bare chest and began wiping it dry, taking her time, getting between the toes.

Zhang Wenbin was genuinely surprised. Satisfied in a way that bordered on disbelief. A grown woman just knows how to serve a man in ways a girl never could. She'd made herself this prostrate and this thorough because it was the correct thing to do — whether she meant it or not almost stopped mattering. If the result was that it felt sincere, that was enough.

After the first leg she knelt up straighter; the tile was hard and she'd quietly folded a towel under her knees before resuming. She wiped the remaining limb with the fresh towel — and as she looked upward at the end, the cock had already started to stir again above her face.

She kept working — and looked up with soft eyes. "Master, would it please you to finish inside my mouth again? Or should we go to the bed — I think there's massage oil somewhere, we could try something else."

"No — you've had a long night too. Go clean up properly. I'm going for a smoke."

After everything, her energy was genuinely low, and he thought it better to save something good for next time when it could be done properly.

"Yes, Master." A flicker of surprise, and then a slow, warm smile. "At least let me dress you."

She was clearly inexperienced at dressing another person, but her care was absolute. When his clothes were on, Zhang Wenbin went downstairs. Glancing back: she'd started washing but left the door open — perhaps another small thing that had simply become natural after the night they'd had.

Xu Fei's refrigerator was sparse. Mostly vegetables and desserts. The woman clearly watched her weight; there wasn't a serious protein source to be found.

He took a bottle of water and settled into the living room sofa with a cigarette.

Women always take a while to wash. But fear of being left alone — while also watching over her daughter — made Xu Fei exceptionally fast tonight. She didn't even wash her hair, just braided up the contaminated sections, scrubbed herself down, and came back out in a silk camisole and nothing else — bare under it, moving like a slow wave.

She came toward him with spring written all over her face, clearly prepared to continue servicing the man who'd owned her tonight. Whether from sacrifice for her daughter or her own restless, unfinished need — there was no clean answer anymore.

"Teacher — are you wearing underwear?"

Xu Fei colored — prettily, deliberately. "No. I wasn't sure what style you'd prefer, so I didn't dare put any on. Next time, Master can pick something for me to wear and I'll dress for you…"

A surrendered wife. A humiliated mother. A composed and elegant teacher. The convergence of all of it spread through Zhang Wenbin like heat.

She'd just reached him when the phone on the table went off. An old-fashioned ringtone, very loud, jarring in the quiet.

It was an ancient handset. Large-print display: Yang Qiang.

He'd just finished with the man's wife and daughter. Xu Fei's expression went through five things at once. Zhang Wenbin felt a dark spark of excitement — he pulled her onto his lap and reached inside her neckline, gripping one breast before she'd landed.

Enormous — like a papaya, and freshly washed she felt remarkable, the springy, elastic softness extraordinary. One light squeeze confirmed: the nipple was still hard.

Xu Fei held perfectly still and said nothing. She picked up the phone and offered it to Zhang Wenbin — and her expression, despite herself, carried something complicated and electric.

He took it and grinned while kneading. He answered: "Commissioner Yang!"