Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.3[b] The Inn’s Temptation (II)

The beautiful woman was a vision of unrestrained passion amidst a cluster of men whose bodies moved in a frenetic dance of desire. She was surrounded, her form both the center and the catalyst of their attention. One man knelt behind her, his broad hands clamped around her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her with a rhythm that was steady yet relentless. His movements were powerful, each thrust sending a ripple through her body, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. Another man stood before her, his cock buried deep in her mouth, her lips stretched taut around him as she worked him with eager, practiced motions. Her head bobbed in time with his shallow thrusts, her eyes half-lidded with concentration and pleasure. Her hands, meanwhile, were occupied with two others who flanked her, their shafts slick under her deft fingers as she stroked them with a confidence that spoke of experience.

The air was alive with sound, a cacophony that reverberated off the stone walls and mingled with the low hum of the springs. The wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh was a constant undercurrent, punctuated by the soft splashes of water displaced by shifting bodies. Grunts of effort and groans of pleasure spilled from the men, raw and unfiltered, while Chisato’s own moans—muffled by the cock in her mouth—wove through the noise like a thread of silk, sharp and sweet. The sounds sent shivers racing down Hayao’s spine, igniting a fresh spark of arousal even as he lay there, spent.

“God, Chisato, you’re incredible,” one of the men rasped, his voice thick with lust as he gripped her shoulder, steadying himself. He was a lean figure with sharp features, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts.

She pulled back just enough to flash him a grin, her lips glistening, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I know,” she replied, her tone cheeky and unrepentant, before diving back in with renewed vigor, her tongue flicking against him in a way that made him shudder.

Another man, broader and rougher-looking, chuckled as he ran a hand through her damp hair. “You’re going to drain us all dry, you know that?”

“That’s the plan,” she murmured around the cock, her words distorted but unmistakable, a playful edge to her voice that belied the intensity of her efforts.

Hayao watched, utterly captivated, as the man behind her quickened his pace, his thrusts growing more urgent. His fingers tightened on her hips, leaving faint red marks against her skin, and Chisato responded instinctively, arching her back to meet him, her body begging for more. The man in front of her tightened his grip on her hair, guiding her movements with a gentle but firm hand, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper, her throat working to accommodate his length.

The young okami’s hands were a marvel of coordination, gliding over the slick shafts of the men on either side with a rhythm that matched the chaos around her. One was tall and wiry, his head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he surrendered to her touch. The other was stockier, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he fought to hold on. Their groans blended into the air, a chorus of desperation and release.

The steam lent the scene an ethereal quality, softening edges and casting everything in a dreamlike haze. It clung to Chisato’s skin, forming tiny beads of moisture that trailed down her back in rivulets, tracing the curve of her spine and pooling at the swell of her hips. Her breasts swayed with each thrust, full and heavy, their motion hypnotic. The woman’s hair, dark and damp, clung to her face and neck in tendrils, framing her expression—lips parted, eyes bright with a mix of exertion and ecstasy.

Hayao felt his own body stirring, his cock twitching back to life despite the exhaustion that weighed on him. He marveled at his own stamina, but there was something about Chisato—her abandon, her hunger—that ignited a fire in him he couldn’t quench. She was a force, a whirlwind of desire that swept everyone in her orbit along with her.

One of the men she was stroking—a wiry figure with a shock of black hair—let out a guttural groan, his body tensing as he reached his peak. His seed spilled over her hand, hot and sticky, and she didn’t falter, her fingers continuing their work on the other even as she brought her hand to her lips, licking it clean with a slow, deliberate motion. A wicked smile curved her mouth, and the sight sent a jolt through Hayao, his arousal flaring anew.

The man in her mouth followed soon after, his hips jerking erratically as he came, a low growl escaping him. Chisato swallowed eagerly, her throat bobbing, her eyes flicking up to meet his with a spark of triumph. He pulled away, chest heaving, and another man—a burly figure with a beard—stepped forward to take his place, his cock already hard and eager. “My turn,” he muttered, voice rough, and she welcomed him with a tilt of her head, her lips parting to envelop him.

She was a goddess of lust, her appetite boundless, her energy unyielding. Every touch, every thrust seemed to fuel her, her body responding with a fervor that bordered on the supernatural. Hayao couldn’t tear his eyes away, drinking in every detail—the flex of her muscles, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the way her fingers danced over the men’s flesh.

As the scene unfolded, he began to notice the shifting dynamics among the men. Some were tiring, their movements growing sluggish, their breaths more labored. The wiry one who’d just finished slumped against the wall, wiping sweat from his brow with a shaky hand. The stocky man on her left was faltering, his strokes uneven, his face contorted with the effort of holding back. But Chisato was relentless, her momentum only building, her cries sharpening into something wilder, more demanding.

“Harder,” she ordered the man behind her, her voice cutting through the haze, and he obeyed, his thrusts deepening, the sound of their collision growing louder, wetter.

“Slower,” she murmured to the bearded man in her mouth, and he complied, easing his pace, letting her dictate the rhythm as she savored him.

She was the conductor of this symphony, her commands precise, her control absolute. The men moved at her whim, their pleasure hers to shape, and Hayao was struck by the sheer power she wielded, even in the midst of such abandon.

His own cock was fully hard now, throbbing with a need that bordered on pain. He wanted her—wanted to feel her heat, her tightness, to lose himself in her again. But he held back, letting the anticipation build, feeding off the raw energy of the scene before him. His mind raced, imagining the moment he’d join her, the way her body would yield to him, the sounds she’d make when he took her.

The air grew heavier, the scents more potent—sweat, sex, and sulfur blending into a heady cocktail that made his head swim. The steam thickened, curling around the figures like a living thing, obscuring details only to reveal them again in flashes: the flex of a muscle, the curve of a hip, the glint of wet skin. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and Hayao felt himself sinking deeper into the moment, every sense heightened.

One by one, the men began to reach their limits. The one behind her—a lean, wiry figure with a scar across his chest—gave a final, deep thrust, his body shuddering as he came inside her. He pulled out with a groan, stepping back to lean against a bench, his chest heaving. The stocky man on her left followed, his hand faltering as he spilled over her fingers, a hoarse cry escaping him. He stumbled away, muttering something incoherent, and the bearded man in her mouth was next, his hips bucking as he released, Chisato taking it all with a practiced ease.

They withdrew, one after another, their energy spent, leaving her sprawled across the mat, her body slick with sweat and cum, her chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. But her eyes were bright, her smile undimmed, a spark of mischief still dancing in her gaze.

She waved lazily at the departing men, her voice lilting. 

They chuckled, some blowing her kisses, others offering tired nods as they gathered their things. The bearded man lingered a moment longer, his gruff voice softened by affection. “You’re something else, Chisato. I don’t know how you do it.”

She shrugged, a coy smile tugging at her lips. “You’re too kind, dear guest,” she replied, and he laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed faintly.

He glanced at Hayao, still standing there, his arousal painfully evident. “Looks like the kid’s got some stamina. You two have fun.”

Chisato’s eyes twinkled as she turned her gaze on Hayao. “Oh, we will.”

The last of the men filed out, their footsteps fading into the hum of the bathhouse, leaving Hayao and Chisato alone in the steamy haze, the faint drip of water echoing in the now-quiet space. 

She shifted, propping herself up on her elbows, her body an invitation, her voice a husky purr. “Still here, dear guest?”

He stepped forward, his heart pounding, his cock aching with need. “I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”

She laughed, a sound that was both joyous and seductive, rich with promise. “Good. I hope you’re not done with me yet.”

He closed the distance between them in two strides, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely. She responded with equal fervor, her tongue tangling with his, her hands roaming over his back, nails grazing his skin.

Breaking the kiss, he growled, his voice rough with want. “I want you again.”

Her eyes darkened, lust pooling in their depths as she smiled up at him. “Then take me. Take me however you want.”

Chisato lay back on the tiles, her body trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasms, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her legs spread. Her dark hair fanned out, damp and wild, framing her flushed face as she looked up at Hayao with wide, glimmering eyes.

Hayao loomed over her, his cock still twitching, slick with their combined fluids. His gaze was predatory, devoid of tenderness, fixed solely on her trembling form. She giggled—a high, girlish sound—and parted her thighs wider, an invitation as blatant as it was desperate. 

"Not tired yet?" she asked, her voice soft and husky, a playful edge cutting through the exhaustion.

"Not even fucking close," Hayao growled, his voice rough as gravel. He didn’t wait for her to catch her breath. Gripping her hips with bruising force, he yanked her toward him and slammed into her pussy with a thrust so brutal it shoved her back across the tiles. She gasped, her hands scrabbling for purchase, nails scraping against the slick stone as he set a punishing rhythm. The wet slap of their bodies colliding filled the bathhouse, a relentless percussion underscored by her escalating moans.

"Oh, my!" she cried, her voice pitching into a girlish squeal. "You’re so strong! You’re going to fuck me silly!" Her words tumbled out in a breathless rush, her usual composure unraveling as he pounded into her. 

She squirmed beneath him, her hips bucking involuntarily, her body yielding to his dominance with every thrust. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling against her cheeks, and she giggled again, a sound that bordered on delirium. "I can’t believe this—I’m falling in love with your cock! It’s so stupid, me falling for such a young cock!"

Hayao’s rhythm faltered for a heartbeat, her confession slicing through the haze of lust. He leaned down, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. "What’s your full name, slut?" he demanded, his tone sharp, cutting through her babbling.

"Chisato Ayanokouji," she whimpered, her voice breaking as he drove into her harder, her body shuddering under the impact. "What’s yours, dear guest?"

"Hayao," he grunted, his hands tightening on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh until red marks bloomed beneath them.

Her lips parted, a soft moan escaping as she locked eyes with him. "Hayao," she whispered, her tone reverent, "I really wish it’s you who gets me pregnant." The words spilled out, raw and unguarded, her girlish infatuation laid bare.

The thought ignited something feral in him—a dark, possessive heat that coiled in his gut. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, the gesture deceptively gentle, and smirked as he touched the beauty mark under her left eye. 

"I’ll claim you for myself," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Make you my whore."

His fingers lingered on her cheek for a moment, and she blushed like a virgin, her skin flaring crimson despite the filth of their coupling.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes shining with adoration. "Please, Hayao—make me yours. And when you cum inside me, call me by name."

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, his thrusts growing even more savage, his balls slapping against her ass with each punishing stroke. Her moans escalated into shrill cries, her body quaking beneath him as she teetered on the edge. "Yes, yes, yes!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls. "Fuck me, Hayao! Claim me with that beautiful cock!"

He felt the pressure building, his cock throbbing inside her tight heat. With a final, bone-rattling thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and roared, "Chisato!" His release hit like a storm, his cum flooding her pussy in hot, thick spurts.

"Hayao!" she shrieked, her own climax crashing over her as his seed filled her. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around him, milking every drop as she cried his name again and again, her voice hoarse and trembling.

They collapsed together, a tangled heap of sweat and gasps, but Hayao gave her no reprieve. His cock slipped free, still glistening, and he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head down toward his crotch. "Suck it," he ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

Chisato obeyed instantly, her lips wrapping around him with eager devotion. She sucked and licked, her tongue swirling over his shaft, cleaning off the mess of their juices. Her girlish enthusiasm fueled him, and within moments, his cock stiffened again, hard and unyielding as if he hadn’t just cum. She pulled back, gasping, her eyes wide with awe. 

"It’s miraculous. So beautiful…" she murmured, a giggle bubbling up as she stared at his erection.

He didn’t let her linger on her wonder. Hauling her up by the arm, he dragged her toward the onsen, the steaming water rippling gently in the dim light. The heat hit them like a wall as they stepped in, the water lapping at their waists. He spun her around, bending her over the edge of the pool until her hands gripped the stone lip, her ass thrust out toward him.

"I’m going to fuck your ass now," he said, his voice a low growl, laced with menace.

Chisato shivered, a mix of fear and excitement flickering across her face. "Yes, Hayao," she whispered, her tone submissive and pleading. "Take me however you want. The others already have," she said the last with a devilish grin.

He didn’t bother with preparation. Spreading her cheeks with rough hands, he pressed the head of his cock against her tight hole and sheathed cock in her tight hole with a single, brutal thrust. She cried out, a sharp sound that dissolved into a moan as he began to move, his hips slamming into her with merciless force. The water splashed violently around them, waves crashing against the stone as he ravaged the beautiful woman's ass.

Her hands scrabbled at the edge, her knuckles whitening as she clung on. "Oh god, Hayao!" she wailed, her voice trembling with pain and pleasure. "It’s so much!"

He wasn’t satisfied with just fucking her. He wanted her broken, utterly his. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he shoved her head underwater, the bubbles exploding around her face as he continued to pound into her. Her body thrashed, her legs kicking instinctively, but he held her down, his grip unrelenting. After a few seconds, he yanked her up, and she gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, her eyes wild.

"Ahh!" she rasped, her voice barely audible over the sloshing water.

He ducked her head again and again, releasing her just long enough for a ragged breath before submerging her once more. Each time, her struggles grew weaker, her moans more desperate, muffled by the water. The combination of the brutal assfucking and the near-drowning drove her into a frenzy—she came hard, her body seizing up, her screams bubbling up through the surface as her ass clenched around him.

Hayao felt his own release building, the sight of her submission pushing him over the edge. With a few final, savage thrusts, he buried himself deep in her bowels and came, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he filled her with his cum. He released her hair, and she slumped against the edge of the pool, gasping and trembling, her body wracked with aftershocks.

He pulled out, stepping back to survey his work. Chisato’s form was a wreck—hair plastered to her face, skin flushed and bruised, her ass leaking his seed into the water. She turned her head weakly, her eyes finding his, still alight with that foolish, girlish adoration.

"Hayao," she murmured, her voice soft and broken. "I meant it—I love your cock."

He smirked, a cold, dismissive curl of his lips. "Whatever," he said, turning away. "You’re my whore now. That’s all that matters."

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