"Good pain," he had said. "Cultivation pain. Your lower dantian is opening."
Her lower dantian was not opening. Her pussy was tearing. The blood ran dark in the candlelight, mixing with the seed of lubrication her body had reflexively produced, coating the eight-inch shaft as it sawed in and out of her with the steady, unhurried pace of a man who had been waiting for this and intended to make thorough use of the time.
Her ass clapped back against his hips with each thrust, the soft flesh of her buttocks bouncing, her tongue pushing past her teeth because the angle of his cock when he grabbed her tied wrists and yanked them above her head changed the depth and drove his tip against something inside her that made her jaw go loose.
"AAANGHH~!! NNOONGHHH~!! MY WOMB~!! ELDER~!! SOMETHING IS HITTING MY —"
"Yes," he had said, with the satisfaction of a man arriving at his intended destination. "That is the point."
PAH PAH PAH! PAAH! PHACCK!
