Phi-Fic Chapter 218: War is coming
Chapter 218: War is coming
"Ah... it’s just that you’re tighter..." Ethan murmured, his tone half-playful, half-serious.
His hands dug firmly into her hips, his voice coming out muffled, stifled by the weight of those enormous pale tits pressed against his face.
At those words, Ophelia froze for a moment. Then a mature, sensual laugh rolled from her lips.
There she was, riding him, that obscene bodysuit hugging every curve like a second skin, his cock buried all the way to the hilt inside her soaking wet pussy.
"Ah~ my naughty little Lord..." she purred, slowly licking her lips. "I... Ophelia, the spy queen, am going to show you what I’m capable of."
Her hands began to move slowly.
Her arms wrapped around both her own breasts—which were already swallowing Ethan’s face—and the young lord’s head, her forearms crossing behind the back of his neck.
Then, without hesitation, she squeezed with all her might.
Her delicate biceps sank into the plump flesh of her own breasts, forcing the soft mounds to spill obscenely over and between her arms in fat, creamy curves.
Her perfumed skin pressed against Ethan’s face with even greater force, smothering him completely in an embrace of warm, soft flesh.
At the same time, her hips rose slowly along his cock, her wet pussy nearly letting that big, thick, veiny member slip free.
Then, in one abrupt movement, she let herself fall all at once.
Clap
A loud, wet slap echoed throughout the office.
The couch groaned beneath them, and her plump, juicy ass shuddered violently from the impact, the soft cheeks flattening against his thighs before springing back, shockwaves rolling through the flesh in obscene, lingering wobbles.
Ophelia let out a long, deep moan, and then began to set a rhythm.
Her hips rose and fell over him, slow at first, then gathering more and more speed until the pace turned relentless.
The wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh filled the office in a steady, obscene cadence.
As she rode Ethan’s cock without respite, her ass undulating like a churning sea, her breasts trapped between her own arms quivered incessantly against the young man’s face.
The Young Lord, naturally, didn’t complain.
On the contrary, his fingers dug deeper into the soft flesh of her hips, anchoring her and guiding her in rhythm.
A muffled groan escaped his throat, lost among the ample flesh of her breasts.
It was like having his face buried between two heavy, warm pillows, slightly damp with sweat and intoxicatingly fragrant, while a hot, tight pussy clenched and embraced his cock.
That was paradise.
His hand slid down to one of Ophelia’s buttocks, gripping the pale flesh beneath the thin, black, almost transparent fabric of the bodysuit.
He squeezed for a brief moment, feeling the supple cheek bulge beneath his fingers, before letting go.
He could feel that Ophelia was at her limit.
Her moans grew louder and louder, dissolving into small, muffled squeals, and her pussy tightened with increasing force around his cock, the slick walls fluttering and clutching at every inch.
Immersed in such pleasure, it seemed like an eternity until, finally, deep within her own belly, she felt Ethan’s cock tremble violently, on the verge of giving way.
Her ass slammed against his hips one last time, and there they remained, locked together.
Her arms lost all strength and fell limp at her sides, her torso slumping backward without any resistance.
Luckily, Ethan was already holding her waist firmly.
As she leaned further back, her heavy breasts bounced freely with the motion, the creamy mounds jiggling obscenely for a brief moment before settling into their perfect shape—firm and proud, like two huge pale mountains rising from her delicate frame.
It was then that she felt the first gush of cum invade her pussy, still hypersensitive from her recent orgasm. Followed by another. And then another.
The pearly, scalding semen flooded her womb relentlessly, jet after jet, each fresh pulse making her shudder and twitch atop him.
Finally, with effort, she moved her torso and returned to Ethan’s embrace.
Her full breasts pressed against his chest, and her lips brushed against his in a lazy kiss.
"Are you going to tell me about Mireya’s mother now?" Ethan murmured, a teasing smile curving his lips. "She’s listening to everything..."
Ophelia blushed slightly, and at the same time, an irritated, lust-filled grunt escaped from Mireya, inside the pendant hanging from his chest.
"Ah... She recently came out of seclusion and, apparently, with your father among the generals, sailed on a military campaign in the middle of winter. Over a hundred thousand men."
"My father?" Ethan’s face twisted in bewilderment.
Why on earth would he be involved in a campaign like this?
"Yes." Ophelia nodded. "They sailed toward the northern merchant federations, seeking to clear a path for the central empires.
An army of about two hundred thousand men is advancing from the kingdom of Solene, while your father and Mireya’s mother already surround the federations’ capital with a hundred thousand troops."
Upon hearing that, Ethan’s eyes gleamed.
The central empires formed the richest region on the entire continent.
However, this wealth remained isolated from the rest of the world, as a hundred major merchant guilds had joined forces to form the Northern Merchant Federation, also known as the Blackwatch Merchant Federation.
Since they charged exorbitant fees to any overland caravan that wanted to cross their domains, the only alternative to reach the Central Empires was by sea.
Any merchant wishing to do business there would have to traverse some of the continent’s most treacherous sea routes, in waters infested with pirates and barbarians.
The opening of a new overland route meant that Ron could begin exporting his wine to the central empires as well, further multiplying his profits.
That was simply wonderful for Goldenveil.
With a broad smile on his lips, Ethan sank into Ophelia once more.
And that is how the next two months of his life passed.
Ethan reached the title rank of viscount, built a healing center for that elderly elven couple, and, in addition to making love to his wives without respite, he also closely oversaw the guard’s training.
It was only in the last month of winter, with the sun already higher in the sky, the snow beginning to melt from the rooftops, and the temperature rising gradually, that Ethan found himself back in his office.
This time, he was preparing to enter the Hell Soldier’s gate and test the limits of its time distortion arrays.
With about two hundred magic crystals in hand—the leftover ones plus those he’d earned by opening just over a thousand free tickets over the past two months—he was excited.
War was coming, and he would be ready.