A few minutes earlier.
Shen Weiwei was crouched beneath Li Dong, her small mouth sucking on his engorged, flushed cock—a member so stiff that the veins stood out clearly beneath the skin. Yet, Shen Weiwei handled it with practiced ease.
She pressed her cherry-red lips firmly against the glans, twisting and turning, taking it deep into her throat before sliding it back out. In truth, even at its absolute hardest—perhaps the firmest it had ever been in his life—this cock was still less than half the size of those belonging to Andrei or Cui Yuanxuan.
Nevertheless, Shen Weiwei sucked with intense focus and care. Every so often, she would narrow her eyes in apparent pleasure, casting glances upward to monitor Li Dong's reactions.
Had Li Dong looked down, he would have seen her lovely face tilted back, her red lips pursed around his cock, and her liquid, expressive eyes filled with deep, tender longing. For any man, such a sight would be a powerful visual jolt—one that might well cause a man with less self-control to go weak in the loins and ejaculate on the spot.
But Li Dong's attention was not on Shen Weiwei at all.
His gaze was fixed intently on the large bed, where Sister Zhiran lay sprawled—limp, drenched in a sheen of fragrant sweat. Her legs were folded to the side, her buttocks raised, revealing full, rounded curves that looked for all the world like a luscious peach. A glistening sheen shimmered between her thighs, where a thick, viscous trail of semen meandered down her beautiful leg. As her thighs pressed and rubbed together, a frothy, milky fluid—a blend of thick and thin, perhaps a mixture of her own arousal and the semen, or a fusion of both—was squeezed out with a wet, squelching sound.
Ziran's delicate shoulders trembled. Her raven-black hair, soaked through, cascaded across the bed, with many strands clinging to her skin—skin so fair and smooth it appeared almost translucent. Gasping for breath, she still managed to lift her lovely head, casting a gaze toward her sister, Tang Lanyan.
And at this very moment, Lanyan was being… fucked with brutal intensity.
Li Dong felt a sharp ache in his heart; truly, no other term could more aptly describe what he was witnessing.
His uncle held Lanyan's slender arms pinned behind her back, pulling them taut with such force that her body strained, her firm, slender waist arching into a heart-stopping curve—much like a fully drawn bow, taut and brimming with elasticity.
Her upper body was pulled back, almost facing the sky, while her full, rounded breasts—firm and prominent—thrust upward. Behind her, her shapely, peach-like buttocks were hoisted high. Her slender waist served as a bridge connecting these two ends, making her look for all the world like a spirited, graceful, and fiery mare.
Yet, she was being violently ridden by the man behind her. Her entire body swayed and jolted rapidly back and forth. Her breasts—plump and rounded, reminiscent of ripe fruit or heavy, glistening droplets—bounced and quivered, surging up and down, swaying side to side, creating a staggering, intense ripple of flesh. *Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack…!*
The violent impacts from behind caused her firm, supple, and voluminous buttocks to deform and quiver in their entirety. The flesh rippled like soft, trembling jelly—waves of motion surging forward—accompanied by deep, resounding thuds of skin striking skin.
Before the aftershocks could even fade, the next brutal thrust arrived, shattering the beads of sweat and striking with such force it felt as though it were hitting the very soul!
Sister Lan Yan's firm, substantial buttocks—much like a basketball—were trapped in a confined space, subjected to intense, rhythmic pounding. The sheer violence with which those full, heavy cheeks bounced and collided was something one would hardly believe without seeing it firsthand.
The tips of her buttocks had turned a vivid, flushed red. Each time her body was jolted violently forward, the fact that her hands were bound behind her back caused her to rebound—straight into the path of a massive, thick cock driving forcefully into her!
"Ah… ah, ah… ngh… ah…!"
As the climax took hold, a cry—sounding much like a wail—escaped her lips. Sister Lan Yan arched her smooth, porcelain-white neck, her slender muscles taut and strained to their limit. Her chin tilted sharply upward, her striking, beautiful face turned toward the heavens. Her thick, dark hair spilled loose, cascading over her delicate shoulders and snow-white back, swaying and shifting with every violent impact from behind.
Between her ragged, tearful gasps, she looked for all the world like a snow-white swan—its throat gripped tight—struggling in its final, desperate moments. Her cheeks were flushed, her beautiful eyes half-closed and shimmering with a mix of unbearable longing and hazy intoxication. Her crimson, shapely lips were parted wide, revealing the tip of a delicate tongue resting within—glistening, wet with saliva…
That lovely face, transformed by the intensity of her climax, looked almost unfamiliar—an expression he had never seen before. Yet, it was profoundly feminine, radiating a seductive allure he had never witnessed on Lan Yan's face.
Li Dong felt a sharp, suffocating ache in his chest; he gritted his teeth so hard that a trickle of bright red blood escaped the corner of his mouth.
Yet, the extraordinary stimulation drove his cock to its absolute limit of hardness, sending waves of tingling numbness through it—a sensation that clung to him like an inescapable parasite, making it impossible to maintain any self-control.
He tried to hold back—he didn't want to ejaculate just yet—as if doing so would mean losing something vital.
But Shen Weiwei, sensing this, gave him no such chance. She pursed her cherry-red lips into a tight, thin ring, clamping them around the base of his cock. With her throat, cheeks, and lips working in unison, she sucked with such ferocity that her beautiful face became slightly distorted—much like the way Zhi Ran and Lan Yan would suck his uncle's cock.
At that thought, his heart began to race even faster. A jolt of intense, numbing pleasure surged through his cock, rushing straight to his brain—he could hold back no longer.
His cock shuddered violently, and his semen erupted into Shen Weiwei's small mouth like water bursting through a floodgate. The release was so intense that his seminal vesicles felt hollowed out, leaving behind a faint, aching soreness.
Shen Weiwei kept her eyes half-closed, continuing to suck with obsessive devotion until every last drop of semen remaining in his shaft had been drawn out completely. Meanwhile, as the pleasure of ejaculation faded and reason began to return, the uncle continued his vigorous thrusting. The delicate moans of Sister Lan Yan—audible and clear—transformed what had previously been a source of intense stimulation into an agonizing, unbearable torment.
Under this onslaught, Li Dong felt his mind reel; his vision blurred and grew chaotic for a fleeting moment. Suddenly, a surging tide of energy erupted from his lower abdomen, spreading uncontrollably throughout his entire body.
The purple mist that had enshrouded his *dantian* did not dissipate; instead, it expanded and spread in tandem with the surging internal energy.
In an instant, it felt as though a searing, spiky sea urchin had sprouted from his lower abdomen, driving its sharp quills deep into his internal organs and every limb and bone in his body.
At the same moment, Shen Weiwei—who, just a second earlier, had been suckling his cock and meticulously cleaning away the semen with her small tongue—was struck as if by a bolt of lightning. Her mouth pulled away with a sharp *pop*, leaving the semen unswallowed; it spilled out from the corner of her lips.
Both of them collapsed together, their bodies wracked by a searing, twisting pain coursing through their meridians.
Though meridians are invisible and intangible, they serve as distinct pathways for the flow of internal force, *zhenqi* (vital energy), or other extraordinary powers—a phenomenon Western science, unable to fully map it, has termed an "internal quantum network."
In the East, the concept of meridians was identified thousands of years ago, with their primary intersection point known as the *dantian*.
Beyond the *dantian*, there exists another vital hub: the *niwan gong* (the "mud-pill palace") located at the crown of the head. This is the convergence point for one's will and the energy within the body. Should one lose control of their mental state, the energy inside risks spiraling into a violent, uncontrollable frenzy.
This is precisely what the ancients referred to as "deviating into a state of chaotic, demonic possession" (*zouhuo rumo*). It was clear that the intense stimulation of witnessing Lan Yan and Zhi Ran being fucked by his uncle had driven him into a state akin to "losing control" or "veering off the path."
"If this continues, we'll all die..."
Shen Weiwei, locked in a tight embrace with him, clung to Li Dong's neck. Her firm, pointed, and full breasts pressed against his chest, rising and falling rapidly with her heavy, delicate gasps. He could almost feel the profound, bottomless depths of her affection—an intensity so vast it made him shiver involuntarily.
The sensation was extraordinary, like two souls melting into one. Through the constant, surging flow of a cold current within his body, he could perceive the sheer depth of Shen Weiwei's feelings—a profound, abyssal devotion that sent another shiver through him.
At the same time, he could sense her obsession and stubborn persistence, weaving a web like a spider, desperate to pull him deep into its embrace.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Li Dong suddenly felt a sense of lightness, as if a heavy shackle had been cast off.
Yet, Shen Weiwei remained tightly wrapped around him, clinging with fervent intensity. Her smooth, slick tongue swirled wetly against his, their deep, lingering kiss so passionate that even her cool tongue grew hot, sticky, and supple.
Though her kiss held a strange, seductive power, Li Dong—his mind still fixed on Lan Yan and Zhi Ran—had no choice but to push her away. *Pop... slurp...*
As their lips parted, a thick, glistening thread of saliva stretched between them. Li Dong turned his gaze immediately toward his uncle, Luo Shaowen, who was still in the midst of fucking Lan Yan. Before his eyes, his uncle, Luo Shaowen, had his lower body pressed firmly against Lan Yan's ample, rounded buttocks. He gripped her slender arms, forcing her naked body into a high, arched pose, while his thick, arm-sized cock remained buried deep within her.
His hips and waist—locked tight against her—shuddered rhythmically; he was clearly pumping a steady, scalding stream of thick semen deep into the honeyed depths of her sex.
His expression was a blend of relaxed satisfaction and the kind of transcendent, ecstatic pleasure one might feel upon reaching heaven—tinged, too, with the unmistakable arrogance of a conqueror.
The surging, viscous torrent of seed acted like the arrows of a conqueror, claiming total dominion over Lan Yan's womb.
Witnessing this, a surge of fury and bitter, aching jealousy ignited within him, burning like a raging inferno. Driven by this rage, Li Dong launched himself into the air without a moment's hesitation—his entire body erupting in a brilliant, golden radiance—and shot toward Luo Shaowen like a cannonball.