Lin Mu's tongue worked slowly, reverently, as he cleaned the last remnants of Chi Jiao's thick seed from Xue Lan's battered, overstretched pussy. The taste was overwhelming—salty, musky, the deep, intimate flavor of his wife's deepest surrender.
Xue Lan lay against the pillows above him, legs spread wide in easy, exhausted openness. Her pale body was flushed pink from exertion, sweat tracing shining rivers down the curves of her breasts, belly, and thighs. Her nipples remained hard, her stomach faintly twitching from lingering aftershocks.
Above her, Chi Jiao lounged lazily, cock still half-hard and glistening wet with a mixture of their fluids. She stroked herself idly, watching Lin Mu's humiliating devotion with a smirk tugging at her lips.
Lin Mu licked slowly, dragging his tongue along Xue Lan's gaping folds, gathering every drop that threatened to spill out. He kissed along the tender inner lips, sucking gently at the places Chi Jiao's monstrous cock had left bruised and raw.
The taste was a thick, heady blend of salt and musk, the air around him saturated with the raw scent of their sex. His lips and chin glistened with the wetness he cleaned, his tongue trembling with each pass.
Each lap of his tongue brought a soft moan from Xue Lan's throat—a pleased, lazy sound, as if he were a warm cloth wiping the sweat from a queen after a good fuck.
He pressed his mouth deeper, sucking and slurping noisily, licking around the fluttering rim of her entrance where Chi Jiao's seed continued to ooze. His tongue dipped inside her briefly, pulling more of the thick, viscous load into his mouth, swallowing around the flavor of another's triumph.
Outside the door, murmuring voices grew louder.
"Did you hear her screaming?"
"She sounded perfect. Like she was begging for it."
"I'd give anything to hear her moan like that for me."
Lin Mu's cock leaked helplessly onto the floor, twitching with every crude comment he heard.
He tried not to think. Tried to focus only on worshipping her properly.
Xue Lan let out a slow, satisfied sigh and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back sensually. Her breasts lifted, glistening under the lantern light. Chi Jiao reached down and idly pinched one of her nipples, earning a shiver and a soft, breathy giggle.
"Good boy, Mu'er," Xue Lan purred. "You're getting better with your tongue. Too bad it's wasted on cleaning instead of pleasuring."
Lin Mu whimpered against her folds but continued dutifully.
Xue Lan dragged her fingers lazily through Chi Jiao's damp hair, twining a lock around her finger. Her eyes half-lidded, she smiled dreamily up at the futanari who had just ruined her body and mind alike.
"Mistress Chi Jiao," she breathed, voice rich with lingering ecstasy, "would you... like to become my wife too?"
The room froze.
Lin Mu's tongue faltered against her soaked pussy. His heart plummeted into a deep, cold pit of humiliation.
Chi Jiao chuckled lowly, a deep, knowing sound that vibrated in her chest.
She leaned down slowly, brushing her nose against Xue Lan's flushed cheek before capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss.
Their mouths opened together, tongues sliding sensually, lazily wrestling for dominance. Xue Lan moaned into Chi Jiao's mouth, her hands sliding up to grasp Chi Jiao's shoulders weakly.
The kiss was slow, messy, and utterly consuming—full of hunger and exhaustion, of new bonds being silently formed over the ruins of Lin Mu's pride.
Chi Jiao's hand drifted down between them, idly stroking the curve of Xue Lan's hip as she deepened the kiss, savoring the soft, needy whimpers Xue Lan gave in return.
Lin Mu remained trapped between Xue Lan's thighs, helpless, mouth still working, the taste of Chi Jiao's cum coating his tongue even as he watched his wife melt into another's arms.
Their kiss broke with a wet, needy sound, a thin strand of saliva connecting their swollen lips.
Chi Jiao chuckled and nuzzled into Xue Lan's throat, kissing her lazily just below her ear.
"Mmm. Maybe," she said, voice thick with amusement. "If you beg me properly next time."
Xue Lan giggled, a high, sweet sound utterly divorced from shame.
She ran her fingertips along Chi Jiao's cock, smearing the remaining slick across her palm as if savoring it.
Then she glanced down lazily at Lin Mu, who still knelt between her thighs, still licking, still trembling.
"Don't worry, Mu'er," she said, her voice syrup-sweet. "You'll always be my favorite little husband."
Her smile deepened, cruel and indulgent.
"You'll just have to share me with someone better."
Lin Mu sobbed quietly against her folds, his cock twitching hopelessly, tears dripping from his chin onto the bedsheets.
Above him, Xue Lan and Chi Jiao kissed again—another long, indulgent kiss, one that felt like a seal over a new promise.
Outside, the crowd shifted, murmuring with renewed hunger.
They wanted her too.
They wanted to hear her scream.
And Lin Mu... was already nothing but her cleanup toy.
Nothing but the trembling, weeping servant of the woman who was no longer his alone.
And he loved her more than ever.