Like He Was Licking Her Clean
Song Zhiyu slammed the door shut, then flung herself onto the bed as if she were on fire, hugging a pillow and burrowing into it.
“Pervert... psycho...”
She ground the words out through clenched teeth, her voice trembling.
But she could still feel that hot, damp sensation on her body.
The sticky fabric pressed against the skin over her chest, cold and clammy, and her nipples were already swollen hard, rubbing painfully with every movement.
Under the hem of her skirt, the inner root of her thighs felt even worse slick, wet, with liquid slowly sliding down the tender flesh along her inner thighs.
“How did I even... end up in that damned bathroom...”
“Damn it... pervert... lecher...”
As she cursed under her breath, she yanked off her dress in a fluster, then tore off her panties too and hurled everything into the corner of the room. After changing into another set of clothes, she sat back down on the bed and finally felt a little better.
But the next second, as if something had just occurred to her, she turned to look back. Above the pile of clothes she had just taken off, a faint white stain showed through, mixed with traces of yellowish dried marks, as if... it had already been there for a while?
She walked over, crouched down, and pinched the hem of the skirt between her fingers.
The smell hit her at once.
Sweat, semen, and a little bit of something else... familiar.
It was her own scent.
She stiffened. Then she leaned in closer, brought her nose nearer, and inhaled again.
“Ugh... fuck...”
She gave a slight shiver.
The smell was thick and fishy, but for some reason it made that hard, vein-ridged cock flash back into her mind.
It was disgusting, and yet a strange feeling was rising up from somewhere deep inside her.
Her phone suddenly chimed with a ding-dong. It was a green-bubble voice message.
[He Xiaoyao]:
“Hey? Zhiyu, what’s your answer? Are you coming the night after tomorrow or not? Didn’t you say you had arranged for someone to go with you to that place by Crazy Bend?”
Song Zhiyu bit her lip and stared at the phone for a long moment. Then she opened the microphone and answered sourly:
“Yeah, I’m coming. I’ll bring that useless brother-in-law of mine.”
[He Xiaoyao]:
“Hah? You mean that live-in brother-in-law of yours, that freeloader? He’d actually dare to come here?”
“I’m dying... He better not piss his pants from fear by then.”
Song Zhiyu didn’t answer. She only bit her lip and stared at the phone screen, then suddenly, with a flash of annoyance, grabbed a stack of tissue from the desk and wiped at her chest.
The moment she pressed down, her nipple jerked hard, as if it still remembered the burning sensation of that hot liquid spraying over it just moments ago.
She wiped it fiercely, faster and faster, but after she was done she still wouldn’t let go of the tissue. Instead she lowered her head and looked down at her chest.
A pair of breasts, pale, soft, and full, slightly deformed under the pressure of her wiping fingers. Her nipples were blushing pink, round and perked.
Then she suddenly thought of what Chu Fan had looked like then.
That image of his hand clutching her panties, his face pressed close as he rubbed against them, as if... as if he were licking her little...
“Psycho...”
She muttered the curse under her breath, but her legs crossed instinctively.
She walked back to the bed, dropped down onto it, and sank her whole ass into the soft cushion. With no panties under her skirt, every time she lifted and lowered her legs, the lingering heat between her thighs was still there.
Then the phone buzzed again.
[He Xiaoyao]:
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t joke with me. You really bringing your brother-in-law? Then if he cries from being scared, you’re responsible, okay~”
Song Zhiyu still didn’t reply.
She lowered her head and stared at the red mark on the inside of her thigh.
She couldn’t tell whether it had been rubbed there just now, or whether it had been left when she accidentally squeezed her legs together...
So disgusting!
God!
That damned piece of trash...
Using her little panties to do something like that...
And yet, in her mind, she couldn’t help replaying the force of his hands on her shoulders just now, and the hot breath brushing her ear when he spoke, panting.
She had never felt that kind of thing from any guy before.
“Pervert.”
She cursed again, turning away from the pile of clothes by the bed, only to glance at them again despite herself.
That smell was still slowly spreading through the air, seeping little by little into her nose, blending with the room’s atmosphere and quietly slipping into her body.
Song Zhiyu frowned hard, a wave of inexplicable irritation surging up her throat.
“Damn it...”
“Disgusting piece of trash...”
She kept cursing through gritted teeth, but she couldn’t stop herself from inhaling again. The scent came through more clearly this time, very familiar, like the moist smell of some place deep inside her own body.
“Oh my God...”
She clapped a hand over her face, her ears burning hot as if they were on fire. Curled up beside the bed, she felt as though her mind had turned into a complete mess, ready to explode.
...
Chu Fan hurried through his shower, and the moment he got back to his room he shut the door behind him and locked it with a click. Leaning against the door, he looked as if he had been hollowed out, his chest rising and falling hard.
The familiar smell was still lingering in his nose.
A woman’s natural scent, mixed with body wash, and... that fishy reek of semen.
He lowered his head and looked at his left hand.
It was still burning hot, as if the skin of his palm still remembered the feel of that little pair of panties: soft, damp, faintly warm, with a subtle girlish scent.
“Fuck...” he growled through clenched teeth. His chest tightened violently, and the cock in his pants gave an ill-timed twitch.
That scene from just now was still far too clear.
His sister-in-law had stood there screaming, her chest soaked through where he had blasted her full, the nipples area drenched, and even the shadow beneath her skirt had been stained with milky white as it slid down the root of her thighs.
She had stared, cursed, glared at him, and in the end had even snatched back that...
“This is my little panties!”
That sentence kept replaying in his ears.
Those panties...
They weren’t his mother-in-law’s. They were hers.
His sister-in-law’s.
Chu Fan clenched his fist hard, his knuckles turning white, but he still couldn’t suppress the reaction building stronger and stronger inside him.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know shame.
But in that moment, he had truly been aroused like a pervert.
That sister-in-law of his who looked down on him, who despised him for being a live-in son-in-law and never even looked at him properly.
He had blasted hot semen all over her body.
He had shot it onto the breasts that had only recently fully matured.
And on top of her pussy too...
He slammed a fist against the edge of the bed, but he still couldn’t calm down.
His body was still shaking.
His cock was still twitching.
His mind was full of her image.
The shadow flashing beneath her skirt, the soft mound of her breasts straining against the fabric, and the way her legs trembled in panic when she blushed and glared at him.
Chu Fan shut his eyes, but his head was still in chaos, like a pot of porridge being stirred to hell.
Then, at that very moment, another figure forced its way into his thoughts.
Shen Rulan, his mother-in-law.
That woman carrying the unique fragrance of a mature woman.
That woman who walked with a slight sway of her waist, her hips full and round.
That woman in a silk dress, who bent over and let her collar slip, revealing two swollen, luscious mounds of flesh that were almost impossible to ignore.
Those breasts were white, huge, and soft. Every careless glance at them made his blood surge.
His mother-in-law had a few more traces of ripened charm than his sister-in-law Song Zhiyu, and more tenderness and allure than his wife Song Zhiyao.
Every time she came close to him, every time she spoke and her faint body scent drifted by, every time her long hair carried the smell of shampoo and the snow-white softness of her cleavage flashed before his eyes...
Even for just a second, it made his blood boil and his breathing tighten.
He knew it was wrong.
She was his mother-in-law.
But his body was far more honest than his reason.
The more he warned himself not to think about it, the clearer that image became...
“No, I can’t keep thinking like this...”
Chu Fan clenched his molars hard and suddenly punched his thigh, trying to force his brain to calm down.
But in that instant, a memory he knew all too well surged up from the depths of his heart.
Deep in his mind, another world’s scenes rolled out like a tide:
A blazing summer night, the smell of blood filling the earthen-walled house;
He was hiding behind the woodshed, watching helplessly as his father was cut down with a single knife strike, his mother beaten until she was a bloody mess;
A drug dealer’s leather shoe stepped onto the family altar table, and with a smile he said, “What a damn busybody of an old dog.”
That year, he was only ten.
He had grown up as an orphan in a village in southwest China near the border, a place that made its living off drug trafficking year after year.
His parents’ deaths were branded into his mind like a seal.
From that day on, he never played, never laughed, and never dared to think about words like “woman,” “family,” or “warmth” again.
He endured winter and summer alone, grinding his teeth through school, training his body, and getting into police academy, with only one thought in his head: catch the drug traffickers and avenge his parents.
He had almost staked his life on those drug routes, tracking, going undercover, making arrests, one case after another, until he became the most fearless, hardest-hitting man in the entire police force.
But because he pushed himself so hard, he became a thorn in the drug traffickers’ side. Then, with the traffickers’ abs looming before his eyes, everything went black.
When he woke again, he had become the Chu Fan of now.
The useless son-in-law of this family.
Shen Rulan’s son-in-law, Song Zhiyao’s husband, Song Zhiyu’s brother-in-law.
——————