It was like the nectar flowing from a perfectly ripe fruit, mingled with the musky, heady juices of lust; it transformed into a cool, dizzying stream that surged through every fiber of his being.
If anyone knew that the old servant was drinking the orgasmic nectar of the Nine Heavens Mystic Maiden as a thirst-quenching beverage, the envy they would feel is unimaginable.
But having entered such a treasure trove, the old servant was far from satisfied; after swallowing the last drop of nectar, he parted Jiang Yingji's jade-like thighs once more, repeatedly licking open the tender slit of her sex to savor the slick, supple, and succulent flesh within.
Meanwhile, his cock swelled thick and hard—growing even larger than before, with the head deepening in color—clearly the result of constant nourishment revitalizing this withered old body.
He was gradually unlocking the true potential inherent in this physique.
Even his once-withered, scrawny limbs were filling out with firm, defined muscle; his skin gleamed smooth and lustrous, flushed with the healthy hue of blood—a stark contrast to the old servant he had been, making him look like an entirely different man.
That massive cock wedged itself between her two round, colossal breasts; the sensation was hot, wet, and slick, like sliding through rich, creamy unguents.
Her ample breasts, confined by her bra, were squeezed together like two mounds of snowy dough, creating pressure from all sides; the friction of the soft flesh against him—combined with the slickness of her fragrant sweat—made the sensation almost identical to thrusting into her tender pussy.
The old servant had long coveted those jade-like breasts, aching to experience them in exactly this way; he thrust his dark, lean hips with unbridled abandon, driving his cock in rapid, short strokes against the upper curves of Jiang Yingji's bosom. *Thwack, thwack, thwack...*
The dark-brown cock thrust deep, burying itself to the hilt with nearly every stroke; yet, given the sheer volume of the "Queen of Magic City's" bosom, the head of the penis remained enveloped by the soft flesh beneath her breasts, enjoying a sensation of yielding massage and tight compression.
His dark scrotum slapped rhythmically against her cleavage, creating a sound indistinguishable from actual intercourse—though the noise of flesh meeting flesh was softer than when striking buttocks or hips, as the impact caused her breasts to heave and jiggle with unimaginable intensity.
Were it not for the bra barely restraining them, that abundant, snow-white flesh would surely have bounced and flown upward like plump, jade-white rabbits.
Even so, those breasts—soft and supple beyond measure, their texture finer than the richest cream—swayed so violently upon impact that they threatened to spill right out of the bra.
Sensing the approach of climax, the old servant grunted, withdrew his cock from between her breasts, and cupped the Queen's face. He thrust the throbbing, vein-ridged shaft into her lush, rosebud-like lips; after a few rapid thrusts of his dark buttocks, his body suddenly went rigid, his rear end quivering violently as he pumped jets of thick, potent semen into her mouth.
Straining his neck, he let out a long, ragged gasp. As the last of his seed shot forth, he looked down to see the Queen's lovely chin and her elegant red lips clinging to his dark, erect shaft.
Seeing a trickle of cloudy white semen spill from the corner of her mouth, he felt a rush of pure ecstasy surge straight to the crown of his head, while a wave of intense, pleasurable emotion flooded his mind. He felt his soul power strengthen ever so slightly; a moment's reflection revealed the reason: this "Old Servant" body did not belong exclusively to him—many predecessors had inhabited it before he took up residence.
Upon their demise, they had left behind faint imprints of their consciousness. While these residual traces—filled with a mix of hatred and fear toward the Queen of Shanghai—were normally difficult to rouse, the shared sensations of their common vessel had now triggered them into activity.
He felt a surge of secret delight; if these imprints were to vanish, he could gain near-total control over this body...
As the Queen of Shanghai's lips moved and sucked instinctively, his mind wandered. He remained torn between turning to An Ping or fully merging his soul into this "Old Servant" body.
This body was now a perfect fit for him—it was no longer a mere case of possession, but a true rebirth.
Yet, the immense benefits of the "Eight-Yang Body" gave him pause. Ultimately, he decided against a complete merger for the time being; realizing that a distant solution wouldn't quench an immediate thirst, he knew he had to strengthen this current body to the utmost if he wished to fully savor the "Pure Yin Body" right within his grasp.
With that thought, he channeled the sliver of soul power he had just absorbed back into the body.
A surge of heat erupted from his dantian; his member, which had gone limp after the previous round, instantly hardened again until it felt like searing iron. He decided to strike while the iron was hot.
He had previously harbored concerns that the Queen might suddenly snap out of her stupor, but the situation now made the risk well worth taking. "Hehe, let this old Daoist fulfill your dreams in your stead; you fellow Daoists can depart in peace!"
Lifting a long, black-stocking-clad leg, the old servant aimed his engorged, reddened cock—veins bulging like earthworms—at the slick, glistening slit. With a forceful thrust of his hips, the crimson glans parted the plump, tender labia and sank into the exquisite vaginal canal, which felt like a blend of oil and honey, sucking and enveloping him.
"Hah!"