Chapter 26: The Arrangement of Desire
Tung’s shadow slowly moved towards the sofa. He took his time. Each step on the old wooden floor was heavy, not from fatigue, but from the weight of his brokenness. He completely ignored Minh. In his world at that moment, he did not exist. There was only her. The naked woman sitting there, the one who had given him permission to punish her own betrayal.
He stood before Ngan. He did not rush at her. He knelt slowly. An act of surrender, of a believer before a holy relic. But his eyes in the darkness were those of a conqueror, bloodshot and possessive.
He started by kissing the top of her foot, a kiss of worship. Then he moved up. The kiss became more forceful, more demanding. When he reached the inner thigh, where the skin was soft and sensitive, he stopped. He used his teeth, biting lightly.
Ngan let out a soft hiss, her body jerking. It wasn’t a love bite. It was a bite of possession, of punishment. A reminder that he was here, and he was hurt.
He didn’t stop. He flipped her over onto her stomach on the sofa.
Now, before his eyes was the “territory” he was most passionate about: her big, round, white, curvy buttocks, perfectly exposed in the dim light.
He didn’t kiss her. He used his large, rough hands to squeeze her buttocks, kneading them roughly as if he wanted to leave his fingerprints on them. Her white skin quickly turned red under his hands. Then, he waved his hand.
POP!
A dry, harsh smack rang out. Ngan’s soft skin trembled. She stifled a cry, burying her face in the cushions. He did it again, harder.
After he had finished “punishing” her, he began to “worship”. He buried his face in the crack of her ass and began to use his tongue. His tongue was not as delicate as the others. It was full of power and anger. It licked passionately and bit lightly at the softest places, causing Ngan’s whole body to tremble. She was writhing. Not just from pleasure. But from a sick mixture of pain, humiliation, and a dark pleasure she had never known.
Tung is completely immersed in his own world, a world of possession and reclaiming.
And Minh, sitting next to him, just silently observed everything, an amused smile on his lips, waiting for his turn to step onto the stage.
While Tung was “dominating” Ngan’s lower body, Minh decided to join in. He didn’t have Tung’s torment, only pure curiosity and desire, like a predator looking for new territory. Minh’s goal was to take over his own “territory” – Ngan’s breasts – and turn Tung’s punishment into a threesome, a dramatic performance. The sound of wind whistling through the cracks in the wall, the steady snoring from the other room, created a creepy soundtrack.
Minh crawled onto the sofa, lying next to Ngan’s upper body, the sound of skin rubbing gently “rustling”. He turned her over onto her back, exposing her entire upper body under the dim light. Before his eyes were a pair of large, thick, round breasts that were rising and falling with each of Ngan’s panting breaths. Her nipples were hard from stimulation, like two buds blooming, inviting. The sound of skin rubbing gently.
He whispered into Ngan’s ear, his hot breath blowing on her earlobe, but loud enough for Tung to hear, a bold provocation. “It’s your turn, Sister Nuoi. Tung only knows those country tricks. Let me show you what heaven is like.” . “Your breasts… are so delicious…”
He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, making a wet “chut chut” sound, using his tongue to rotate it like he did in the battle in Q2, a torture full of pleasure. His other hand kept kneading the other breast, rough and possessive, as if kneading a lump of clay, causing the soft flesh to spill out through his fingers. The “bang” sound of the flesh being kneaded rang out. “Moan… let me hear…”
Ngan was about to go crazy. Tung’s tongue was attacking her lower door, Minh’s tongue was tormenting her upper door. Her body was stretched between two opposing sources of pleasure: one intense and angry, the other skillful and teasing. Her mind screamed in humiliation, but her body betrayed her, responding to every stimulation. An uncontrollable moan escaped her lips, a primal sound of surrender, of a tormented animal, a broken “ah… ah… ah…!” sound. “Fuck me to death!”
Ngan’s moan was the signal. Minh and Tung both looked up. Their eyes met over her writhing body. The jealousy was gone, replaced by the understanding of two predators sharing the same prey, a sick synchronicity.