Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The sharp, rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the dimly lit room, a primal symphony that mingled with the sultry moans spilling from Mikoto's lips.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" Her voice trembled with ecstasy, each syllable a testament to the pleasure coursing through her body as she rode Minato's throbbing cock with unrestrained fervor. Her hips rolled in a hypnotic rhythm, her body glistening with sweat that caught the faint glow of the candlelight, making her skin shimmer like polished ivory.
"It's… ah… so… good!" she gasped, her voice breaking as waves of pleasure surged through her.
Minato, sprawled beneath her, gazed up at his lover with a mix of awe and raw desire. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky, his face buried in the soft, warm valley of her breasts.
Her full, supple mounds pressed against his cheeks, their heat and softness driving him wild as she continued to ride him with relentless passion. Each bounce of her hips sent a jolt of pleasure through him, her tight walls gripping him in a way that made his head spin. He couldn't get enough of her—the way her body moved, the way her breath hitched, the way her dark eyes burned with a fire he'd never seen before.
From the corner of the room, Fugaku watched, his heart pounding in his chest. His wife, his Mikoto, was a vision of untamed sensuality, her body moving with a fervor she'd never shown with him. Her moans, her gasps, the way her hips slammed down onto Minato with such abandon—it was a sight that both shattered and electrified him.
A strange, intoxicating pleasure curled in his gut, mingling with the ache of jealousy. She was never this wild, this alive, when they were together. But now, with Minato, she was a goddess unleashed, her every movement dripping with desire.
Fugaku's breath hitched, and he felt himself harden again, his body betraying him as he watched the scene unfold. The sweat-slicked curve of her hips, the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, the way Minato's hands roamed her body with possessive hunger—it was a masterpiece of lust, and Fugaku couldn't tear his eyes away.
"Hah… hah… yeah… so… good!" Mikoto panted, her voice a sultry melody of need. Her thighs trembled from the effort of riding Minato's impressive length, but she didn't slow down. If anything, she pushed herself harder, chasing the peak of pleasure that loomed just out of reach. Her hands braced against Minato's chest, her nails digging into his skin as she ground against him, her body demanding more, more, more.
Sensing her fatigue, Minato's eyes darkened with intent. With a swift, fluid motion, he pulled his face from her breasts, his lips glistening from their closeness. In one smooth movement, he flipped her onto the bed, reversing their positions.
Now, Mikoto lay beneath him, her knees pressed into the soft sheets, her round, glistening ass raised high in the air. Her face was half-buried in the bedding, her dark hair spilling across the fabric like ink, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. Her back, slick with sweat, arched beautifully, catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal—a vision of raw, unfiltered desire.
Minato's gaze raked over her, his cock throbbing at the sight. Her ass, plump and inviting, begged for his touch. He couldn't resist.
His hand came down with a sharp Thwak! The sound reverberated through the room, mingling with Mikoto's needy moan.
"Mmh… more!" she whimpered, her voice thick with pleasure. Her ass jiggled enticingly, like soft, pliable slime, and the sight sent a fresh surge of heat through Minato.
She loved this—loved the sting, the heat, the way it made her feel utterly claimed. He didn't hesitate, delivering another firm spank that made her gasp and arch her back even further, offering herself to him completely.
Not wasting a moment, Minato gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her slick skin as he thrust into her with a force that made the bed creak. Her tight heat enveloped him, pulling him deeper with every movement.
Mikoto's moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling under the onslaught of pleasure. Her back bowed like a taut string, her ass high and her face pressed into the sheets, muffling her cries as Minato pounded into her with relentless speed and power.
"Ah… ah…!" Her moans were a symphony, each one punctuated by the wet, rhythmic slap of their bodies colliding. The pleasure was overwhelming, building inside her like a tidal wave. She could feel every inch of him, stretching her, filling her, driving her closer to the edge with every thrust.
Fugaku's eyes were glued to the scene, his breath ragged. The sight of his wife, so utterly lost in pleasure, her body writhing under Minato's dominance, was both torture and ecstasy. He could see the way her fingers clutched the sheets, the way her toes curled, the way her sweat-soaked body glistened.
And Minato—his lord, his superior in every way—moved with a confidence and strength that Fugaku could never match. The realization stung, but it also sent a perverse thrill through him, his cock twitching painfully as he watched.
"I'm… ah… ah… coming!" Mikoto cried, her voice breaking as the pleasure crested. Her body shook, her knees buckling as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her gasping and trembling. Her walls clenched around Minato, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his own release building.
"Come, then," Minato growled, his voice rough with desire. "I'm going to make you the mother of my children." His words sent a fresh wave of heat through Mikoto, and she moaned, her body surrendering completely to him. He increased his pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, more desperate, until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"Yeah… come… in… me!" Mikoto gasped, her voice raw with need.
"I'm cumming!" Minato roared, his hips slamming into her one final time as he spilled inside her, his release hot and overwhelming.
Mikoto's knees gave out completely, and she collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling with aftershocks. Minato followed, falling onto her with a heavy thud, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together as they panted, their breaths mingling in the charged air.
"Hah… hah…" Mikoto's chest heaved, her voice barely above a whisper. "God… that was… so good." She pushed her hips up slightly, a silent invitation, and Minato understood immediately. He slid out of her, their combined juices glistening on her thighs, and she turned to face him, her movements slow and deliberate. With a sultry smile, she gathered her dark hair, tying it into a messy bun that only added to her disheveled, irresistible allure. Raising her arms, she beckoned him closer, and Minato didn't hesitate, pulling her into his embrace. They collapsed together, her body soft and warm against his, his face nestled once more in the comforting warmth of her breasts.
"You were great, my love," Mikoto murmured, her voice dripping with affection. Her hands roamed his back, tracing lazy patterns across his skin as she pressed soft kisses to his forehead. Her eyes, dark and luminous, shimmered with love and satisfaction, her entire being radiating contentment.
But then, her gaze flickered to the side, landing on Fugaku, who stood frozen, his expression a chaotic mix of emotions—shock, arousal, and something unreadable.
"So," Mikoto purred, her voice taking on a mischievous edge, "how was it?" Her eyes sparkled with a wicked glint as she studied her husband's face.
"Did you enjoy watching your wife get fucked by someone else? Someone better? Someone stronger?" Her words were sharp, cutting, but laced with a seductive cruelty that made Fugaku's cock twitch involuntarily.
"Aww," she teased, noticing his reaction. "Is my husband's little pinky twitching from seeing his wife get fucked?" Her tone was brutal, yet it only fueled the strange, masochistic pleasure coursing through Fugaku. He couldn't look away from her—sprawled naked on the bed, her body still glistening with sweat, Minato's hands roaming possessively over her curves. It was a vision of pure, unadulterated desire, a masterpiece of passion that both humiliated and enthralled him.
As if to punctuate her words, Minato leaned down, taking one of Mikoto's nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. "Mmh… ah!" she moaned, her head tilting back, her body arching into his touch.
Fugaku's breath caught, his arousal spiking despite himself. He wanted to look away, to preserve some shred of dignity, but he couldn't. The sight of his wife, so utterly claimed by another man, was too intoxicating.
"Get out, Fugaku," Mikoto said suddenly, her voice firm but laced with a cruel playfulness. "I need to pleasure my man." The words hit like a slap, yet they sent another surge of twisted pleasure through him. My man. She'd called Minato her man. The declaration burned, but it also ignited something deep within him, a dark thrill he couldn't name.
Fugaku hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot, but he didn't dare defy her. With a heavy heart and an aching cock, he turned toward the door, the rustling of sheets and Mikoto's soft giggles following him like a taunt. As he stepped into the hallway, the sounds of their renewed passion—moans, gasps, the creak of the bed—drifted through the closed door.
He stood there, his back against the wall, listening to the woman he loved surrender herself completely to another man. His lord. His superior.
If Minato needed something, Fugaku would give it. Even if it meant giving up his wife, his pride, his everything. The thought twisted in his gut, but as Mikoto's moans grew louder, he closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him, a bittersweet symphony of loss and longing.