Dawn had barely kissed the horizon when Long Chen finally withdrew from Su Mei's womb.
He did it with the same agonizing slowness he had used to enter: one inch at a time, pausing after each withdrawal to let her walls flutter and weep around the emptiness he left behind.
By the time the dragon head slipped free with a soft, wet kiss, Su Mei was a trembling ruin on the jade floor: thighs quivering, pussy gaping and pulsing, a thick river of mixed Yang-Yin essence pooling beneath her ass like a sacred offering.
Her breasts—those glorious 34L moons—rose and fell in ragged rhythm, nipples still leaking Phoenix milk in slow, rhythmic spurts that matched her aftershocks.
Long Chen knelt between her legs, eyes hooded, dragon still proudly erect at twenty inches now, veins glowing soft gold, coated in her glistening cream.
He did not speak.
He simply traced one finger through the puddle beneath her, gathered a thick strand of their combined essence, and painted it slowly across her lower lip.
Su Mei's tongue darted out instinctively, tasting them both, eyes rolling back as fresh milk sprayed from her nipples in weak, helpless arcs.
Only then did he move.
He slid up her body like warm silk, dragon trailing fire along her belly, until he straddled her ribcage.
The weight of him settled just below her breasts—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his shaft, but not yet touching.
Su Mei's breath came in shallow, desperate pants.
"Little Ninth… mercy… your auntie's tits… they ache for you…"
Long Chen smiled—slow, predatory, reverent.
He cupped her breasts from the sides, fingers sinking deep into soft, overflowing flesh.
Not squeezing yet.
Just holding.
Feeling their weight.
Feeling the milk throb beneath the skin like a second heartbeat.
He lifted them gently, brought them together until they formed a perfect, deep valley around his waiting dragon.
The head peeked out at the top like a golden crown.
Then he began.
The first slide was barely movement at all: a single inch forward, then back, letting the slick coating of their earlier joining lubricate the path.
Su Mei whimpered.
Phoenix milk leaked from her nipples in steady streams now, running down the sides of her breasts, pooling in the hollow of her throat.
Second slide: two inches.
Third: three.
By the tenth slow, deliberate thrust between her tits, she was sobbing quietly, hips rolling against nothing, pussy clenching so hard fresh Yin nectar squirted onto the jade in rhythmic pulses.
Long Chen never hurried.
He spent the first full hour like that: slow, shallow thrusts that barely disturbed her flesh, letting the anticipation build until Su Mei's entire body trembled on the edge of another climax without a single touch to her pussy.
In the second hour, he went deeper.
The dragon head began to bump the underside of her chin on every forward glide.
Milk sprayed with each impact—warm, sweet, coating his shaft in glistening white.
Su Mei's tongue lolled out instinctively, trying to catch the head on every upstroke, but he angled himself just out of reach.
Not yet.
In the third hour, he allowed her tongue to taste him.
Just the tip.
One slow lick across the slit on every tenth thrust.
Her moans turned into broken prayers.
By the fourth hour, her breasts were flushed deep rose, veins glowing faintly as Phoenix milk flowed freely, turning the valley between them into a warm, slippery heaven.
Long Chen's rhythm remained torturously steady: one thrust every ten breaths, deep enough now that his balls gently kissed the undersides of her tits on the downstroke.
Su Mei came again at the end of the fifth hour—from the titfuck alone.
Her back arched off the jade, pussy squirting untouched in long, glowing arcs that painted the ceiling.
Milk erupted from her nipples like twin fountains, drenching Long Chen's chest, running down his abs to mix with the precum now leaking steadily from his dragon.
Still he did not increase the pace.
In the sixth hour, he finally allowed her to participate.
"Hold them," he commanded, voice low and rough.
Su Mei's trembling hands replaced his, pressing her breasts together even tighter around his shaft.
She began to move them—slow circles, up and down, squeezing on the upstroke, releasing on the down.
Long Chen groaned for the first time, hips twitching involuntarily.
The system voice whispered like silk in his mind:
[Yang Qi absorption rate increased 300%…
Minor realm bottleneck detected…
Continue for four more hours to shatter Qi Condensation and step into Foundation Establishment…]
In the seventh hour, he leaned forward, changing the angle so the dragon head now slid between her lips on every thrust.
Su Mei sucked greedily—just the head—tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing, milk still leaking down her chin to lubricate the shaft.
In the eighth hour, her jaw ached gloriously.
Her pussy had squirted so many times the jade floor was slick beneath her ass.
In the ninth and final hour, Long Chen finally allowed himself to move faster.
Not fast—never fast—but steady, deep, relentless strokes that used the full length of her tit-valley while her mouth sealed over the head on every upstroke.
Su Mei's eyes rolled back completely.
Her final orgasm hit like heavenly tribulation: pussy gushing endlessly, milk spraying in continuous streams that soaked them both.
Long Chen followed at the exact peak.
He buried the dragon head between her lips one last time and erupted.
The first rope flooded her mouth.
The second painted her face.
The third striped across her tits.
He kept coming—nine full hours of built-up Yang essence—until Su Mei was glazed from forehead to navel in thick, glowing seed that steamed in the morning light.
The moment the last drop fell, golden light exploded from Long Chen's body.
[DING… Foundation Establishment achieved…
Dragon Yang Root +4 inches → 24 inches…
Nine Heavens Milf-Conquering Sutra – Layer 2 unlocked…
Hidden bloodline 0.01% unsealed…]
Su Mei collapsed beneath him, tongue still out, catching falling drops like rain.
Long Chen leaned down, kissed her milk-sweet lips, tasting himself on her tongue.
"Nine hours for one minor realm," he murmured against her mouth.
"Imagine what nine days will do."
Outside, the Eternal Dragon Empire's heavenly bells began to ring on their own—announcing silently that their true emperor had begun his eternal ascent.
The morning sun filtered through the cracked jade windows, turning the pooled milk and essence on the floor into a shimmering, opalescent lake that reflected Su Mei's flushed, cum-glazed body like a forbidden mirror.
She lay there spent, chest heaving in slow, ragged waves, her 34L breasts splayed heavily to either side, nipples still erect and weeping thin rivulets of warm Phoenix milk that traced lazy paths down her ribs and pooled in the hollow of her navel. The air hung thick with the scent of her arousal—sweet like ripened peaches soaked in honey, mingled with the musky, salty tang of Long Chen's Yang seed drying on her skin.
Her pussy—oh, that sacred, Heaven-grade Jade Lake—throbbed visibly between her spread thighs: lips swollen to twice their normal size, deep rose and glistening, inner folds peeking out like silk petals unfurled after a storm. A steady trickle of mixed essence leaked from her entrance in thick, creamy strands, each one stretching and snapping with a soft, wet sound as her walls fluttered in aftershocks. The scent rising from it was intoxicating: pure Yin nectar, warm and floral, with an undercurrent of the metallic heat from nine hours of denied penetration.
Long Chen knelt at her feet, his twenty-four-inch dragon still proudly erect, veins pulsing gold, the shaft coated in a glossy sheath of her milk and his own dried precum. A single bead of fresh Yang dew trembled at the slit, catching the sunlight like liquid gold.
He inhaled deeply—savoring the heady perfume of her dripping cunt—and smiled with the patience of an immortal who had eternity to worship.
"Auntie," he murmured, voice low and velvet-rough, sending a visible shiver through her thighs, "your tits have fed me one realm. Now your sacred lake will forge the next. Seven days. No penetration. Only my mouth… until you beg the heavens for mercy."
Su Mei's eyes—glazed with hearts and tears—widened. Fresh milk sprayed from her nipples in weak, helpless arcs. Her pussy clenched audibly, schlick, pushing out another thick glob of essence that splattered warmly onto the jade between her legs.
"Little Ninth… you'll kill this widow with kindness…"
He began at her ankles.
Day One: The Outer Worship
Long Chen's lips brushed the delicate skin of her inner ankle—soft, feather-light kisses that trailed upward in agonizing slowness. Each press of his mouth left a warm imprint; each exhale ghosted hot breath across her calves, her knees, the sensitive backs of her thighs.
By the time he reached the crease where thigh met hip, Su Mei was trembling uncontrollably. Her scent grew stronger here—thick, intoxicating, the pure floral sweetness of her Yin nectar now laced with the desperate musk of need.
He paused inches from her outer lips, inhaling until his lungs burned with her aroma.
Then he kissed the plump, silky flesh of her left outer labia—once, twice, slow open-mouthed presses that sucked gently, tasting the salty-sweet mixture of their earlier joining still coating her skin.
Su Mei's hips jerked. A fresh gush of nectar welled up and trickled down her ass crack with a soft, wet sound.
He mirrored the worship on the right side, tongue tracing the seam where thigh met pussy without ever touching her folds.
By sunset of the first day, her outer lips were flushed deep crimson, swollen further from blood and denied touch, glistening with his saliva and her endless drip.
She came twice—shuddering, sobbing releases triggered only by the heat of his breath hovering over her entrance.
Day Two: The Petal Parting
He spread her thighs wider, thumbs pressing gently into the soft flesh until her pussy lips parted naturally, revealing the glistening pink inner folds, slick and quivering.
The scent hit him like divine incense—warm, wet, impossibly sweet.
He started with the outermost petals: long, slow licks from bottom to top, flat tongue dragging through the creamy residue, gathering every drop of her nectar with reverent hums that vibrated against her skin.
Schlick… schlick… each lick produced obscene wet sounds as her pussy wept faster under the attention.
He traced every fold, every ridge, mapping her like sacred scripture—sucking gently on the tender inner lips until they swelled further, turning deeper rose, then releasing them with soft pops that made her whine.
By midnight, her clit had emerged fully from its hood: a pearl the size of a spirit pearl, throbbing visibly, glistening with her own juices.
He circled it for hours—tongue tip tracing perfect spirals, never quite touching, until Su Mei was babbling ancient pleas, milk spraying rhythmically from her untouched breasts with every near-contact.
Day Three: The Clit Crucifixion
Only on the third dawn did he finally seal his lips over her clit.
Soft suction at first—gentle, pulsing pulls that matched her heartbeat.
Then firmer.
Then the flick of his tongue: rapid, precise, side-to-side while he hummed low in his throat.
The sounds were filthy perfection: wet smacks of his mouth on her swollen clit, her pussy's constant squelch as it clenched and leaked rivers of nectar straight into his waiting mouth, the slap of milk hitting the jade as her tits bounced with every hip jerk.
Su Mei came endlessly—screaming, squirting fountains that he drank greedily, throat working, never spilling a drop.
Her taste changed throughout the day: morning nectar light and floral, afternoon thick and creamy, evening musky and desperate.
Day Four through Six: The Entrance Tease
He moved lower.
Tongue circling her actual entrance—dipping just the tip inside, then retreating.
Over and over.
For three full days.
Never deeper than half an inch.
Her pussy gaped wider each day, inner walls visibly pulsing, trying to suck him in.
The sounds grew louder: obscene, wet schlorp… schlorp… as her hole kissed his tongue tip and begged for more.
Her scent filled the entire palace—heady, addictive, making his dragon leak rivers of precum onto the floor.
Milk flowed constantly now, puddling beneath her back, turning the jade slick.
Day Seven: The Breaking
On the seventh dawn, Su Mei was beyond words.
Her pussy was a ruined masterpiece: lips obscenely swollen, inner folds protruding, entrance gaping and winking desperately, clit throbbing like a second heart.
Nectar poured in a steady stream, forming a warm lake beneath her ass.
Long Chen finally flattened his tongue and dragged it from her asshole to her clit in one long, possessive lick.
Then he sealed his mouth over her entire pussy and sucked—deep, rhythmic pulls while his tongue speared inside as far as it could reach.
Su Mei shattered.
Her scream shook the palace foundations.
Pussy convulsing violently, squirting endless gushing waves straight down his throat—hot, sweet, thick Yin essence that glowed as it entered him.
Milk erupted from her nipples in powerful jets that hit the ceiling and rained back down.
The system sang:
[DING… Supreme Yin essence fully harvested over seven days…
Golden Core forged…
Dragon Yang Root +6 inches → 30 inches…
Layer 3 unlocked…
Bloodline 0.1% unsealed…]
Long Chen drank until she had nothing left, then gently kissed her quivering entrance.
Su Mei collapsed, voice a broken whisper:
"Little Ninth… please… put it in… breed your auntie's worthless milf hole…"
He rose, dragon now thirty inches of golden-veined perfection, head kissing her entrance.
"Next time," he promised, voice thick with restraint. "Nine months for the first true penetration…
We have eternity."