Chapter 105: Sexy Fun With His Mother Lyra (R-18)

The first rays of dawn crept through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting long, pale fingers of light across the opulent chamber. The air, still thick with the lingering scent of sex, was now tinged with the freshness of morning. Alaric lay sprawled across the large bed, his body relaxed but his mind already active, replaying the events of the previous night.

His gaze drifted down to the bedsheets, his eyes lingering on the small, crimson stains that marred the pristine white fabric. A faint smile touched his lips. He knew those stains were from Kara. He had known, with a certainty that bordered on arrogance, that she was a virgin. She was fiercely loyal, almost worshipful of him, and he knew she wouldn’t have offered herself to any other man. The thought brought a surge of satisfaction, a feeling of possessive triumph.

He glanced at Ulriya, sleeping peacefully beside him. He knew she wasn’t a virgin; she was a mother, after all, with a son nearly his own age. Yet, he had enjoyed their encounter immensely. There was a different kind of pleasure in taking a woman who had already experienced the touch of another, a sense of conquest, of proving his own superiority. He had ravaged her body, explored every curve, every secret, and she had responded with a passion that belied her usual reserved demeanor. He had been surprised to find that her pussy was just as tight as Kara’s virgin pussy.

He had enjoyed the contrast, the different textures, the different responses. Kara’s youthful eagerness, her almost frantic desire to please him, had been intoxicating. Ulriya’s more mature sensuality, her deep moans and whispered confessions, had been equally enthralling.

He shifted slightly, his gaze falling on Kara, who was curled up on his other side, her long, dark hair spread across the pillow like a dark halo. She looked peaceful in sleep, her face soft and serene, a stark contrast to the passionate frenzy she had displayed just hours before. The thought of her giving her virginity to him brought a wave of warmth to his chest. He was pleased that she had chosen him, that she had trusted him with such a precious gift. Despite being a virgin, Kara had been surprisingly proactive, her eagerness and enthusiasm adding another layer of excitement to their encounter. She had been a quick study, adapting to his desires with a natural grace that belied her inexperience.

Alaric stretched, his muscles loosening after the long night of passion. He felt invigorated, renewed, as if he had shed a skin and emerged stronger, more confident. He was no longer a boy on the cusp of manhood; he was a man, fully initiated into the world of sensual pleasure.

He decided it was time to wake his companions. He reached out, his hands landing squarely on their buttocks. He gave them each a firm smack, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

Ulriya stirred first, her eyes fluttering open, a soft groan escaping her lips. Kara followed suit, her eyes widening in surprise as she felt the sting of Alaric’s hand.

“Young Master!” Ulriya exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and mock annoyance.

Kara, however, simply giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good morning, Young Master,” she said, her voice teasing. “That’s quite a way to wake someone up.”

Alaric chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I thought you both might appreciate a… stimulating start to the day,” he said, his voice laced with innuendo.

He pulled them closer, his arms wrapping around their bodies. He kissed them both, a slow, lingering kiss that reignited the embers of their passion.

“Now,” he murmured, breaking the kiss, “I believe we all need a shower.” He stood up, pulling the sheets off the bed, revealing their naked bodies. He then picked up their discarded clothing and tossed them towards a nearby chair.

He led them towards the adjoining bathroom, the warm water already running in the large, sunken tub. The steam filled the room, creating a hazy, sensual atmosphere.

Alaric stepped into the tub first, testing the water with his hand. “Perfect,” he murmured, turning to Ulriya and Kara. “Come on in.”

The two women hesitated for a moment, then followed him into the tub, the warm water washing over their skin. The initial awkwardness of sharing a bath quickly dissipated, replaced by a comfortable intimacy.

Alaric reached for a sponge, lathering it with fragrant soap. He then turned to Ulriya and Kara, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Now,” he said, his voice low and seductive, “I believe it’s your turn to take care of me.”

He gestured towards his body, his eyes lingering on their breasts. Ulriya’s were full and mature, while Kara’s were firmer and more youthful. He had enjoyed exploring the differences between them the night before, and he looked forward to feeling their touch again.

Ulriya blushed slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. Kara, however, simply smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The warm water sloshed gently in the tub as Ulriya and Kara began their task. Alaric leaned back, closing his eyes, letting the warm water and their touch wash over him. He felt their soft hands moving across his body, the gentle scrubbing of the sponges, the occasional brush of their breasts against his skin. It was a pleasant sensation, a mixture of relaxation and arousal.

Kara started with his chest, her touch light and playful, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Ulriya, working on his back, was more hesitant at first, her touch gentle and almost reverent. But as she grew more comfortable, her touch became bolder, more confident.

Alaric opened his eyes, watching them as they worked. He could see the concentration on their faces, the way their brows furrowed as they focused on their task. He could also see the faint flush on their cheeks, the way their breaths quickened as they moved closer to him.

He reached out and gently took Kara’s hand, pulling her closer. “Don’t be shy, Kara,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “You can get a little closer.”

Kara giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. Alaric closed his eyes again, savoring the sensation.

Ulriya, watching them, seemed to take this as a cue. She moved around to his front, her back to him, her large, round buttocks now pressed against his legs. Alaric felt a surge of heat rush through him, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

He reached out and gently placed his hands on her hips, his fingers tracing the curves of her body. Ulriya gasped softly, her head falling back, her eyes closing in ecstasy. She began to move her hips slightly, rubbing her buttocks against his legs.

“That’s it, Ulriya,” Alaric murmured, his voice low and husky. “That feels good.”

Ulriya’s movements became more deliberate, her buttocks rubbing against him in a slow, rhythmic motion. Alaric closed his eyes again, his breath quickening as he savored the sensation. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the soft warmth of her skin. She really didn’t seem like a mother, but rather a slut in his eyes.

Kara, still washing his chest, glanced at Ulriya, a mixture of surprise and admiration in her eyes. She had never seen Ulriya act so boldly before. But she didn’t seem to mind, instead, she seemed to be getting hotter.

Alaric continued to enjoy their ministrations, his hands moving over their bodies, his touch becoming more intimate, more demanding. He had them wash every part of him, from his neck and shoulders down to his legs and feet. He made sure they used their breasts as much as possible, enjoying the soft, yielding sensation of their flesh against his skin.

He had them wash his back with their breasts, making them lean forward so that their large breasts could rub against his back. He had them wash his front with their breasts as well, enjoying the feel of their nipples brushing against his chest. He even had them wash his legs and feet with their breasts, making them bend down so that their breasts could rub against his calves and ankles.

The bathroom was filled with the soft sounds of splashing water, their moans and gasps, and Alaric’s low murmurs of encouragement. The atmosphere was thick with sensuality, a mixture of relaxation and arousal.

After a while, Alaric decided that he had had enough. He stood up, the water cascading down his body. He reached for a towel and began to dry himself off, his eyes lingering on Ulriya and Kara.

“Alright,” he said, his voice now more businesslike. “That’s enough. Now, I need you both to help me get dressed.”

Ulriya and Kara nodded, their eyes still glazed over with pleasure. They quickly grabbed towels and dried themselves off, then began to select clothing for Alaric.

They chose a dark blue tunic and matching trousers, the same outfit he had worn the previous evening. They helped him put on the clothing, their fingers brushing against his skin as they fastened the buttons and adjusted the fabric.

Alaric enjoyed the attention, the feeling of their hands on his body. He could feel their lingering desire, the unspoken promise of more intimate encounters in the future.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at Ulriya and Kara, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low and appreciative. “You’ve both been… very helpful.”

He then turned and headed towards the door, his mind already focused on his next task. He knew exactly where he was going. He was going to see his mother.

He left Ulriya and Kara in the bathroom, leaving them to clean up the mess they had made. He knew they wouldn’t mind. They were both eager to please him, and they would gladly take care of any task he assigned them.

As he walked down the corridor towards Lyra’s chamber, Alaric felt a surge of anticipation. He was eager to see her again.

Alaric strode purposefully down the corridor, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished stone floor. His mind was set, his destination clear: his mother’s chamber. The image of Lyra, her flushed face, her trembling hands, her barely concealed desire, fueled his anticipation. He knew she would be waiting, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He intended to settle that battle, to assert his dominance once more, to remind her of the bond they now shared, a bond forged in passion and transgression.

He reached her chamber door, a heavy oak portal identical to his own. Without hesitation, he pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was bathed in the soft light of the late morning sun, casting long shadows across the rich furnishings. Lyra stood by the window, her back to him, her figure silhouetted against the bright light. She wore a simple, light blue dress, its fabric clinging to her curves.

Alaric closed the door behind him, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. Lyra turned, her eyes widening as she saw him. A mixture of surprise, apprehension, and a flicker of something akin to fear crossed her face.

“Alaric?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he moved towards her with a swiftness that startled her. Before she could react, he reached out and grasped the fabric of her dress, tearing it open with a sharp rip. Buttons scattered across the floor, and the fabric parted, revealing the soft skin beneath.

Lyra gasped, her eyes widening in shock. She stumbled back slightly, her hand flying to her chest, trying to cover herself.

“Alaric! What are you doing?” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and protest.

He didn’t answer. His eyes burned with a possessive intensity as he gazed at her exposed body. He reached out and cupped her breasts, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh.

Lyra’s breath hitched. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intensity of his gaze. A shiver ran down her spine, a mixture of fear and a strange, illicit thrill.

Alaric leaned down and kissed her roughly, his lips pressing against hers, demanding a response. Lyra hesitated for a moment, then her lips parted, and she found herself responding to the kiss, her body betraying her with its own desire.

The kiss deepened, their tongues entwining, their breaths mingling. Alaric pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

“You know you want this, Mother,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “You can’t deny it.”

Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest. She knew he was right. Despite the shock of his suddenness, despite the roughness of his touch, she couldn’t deny the desire that was still burning within her.

He pulled her closer, pressing her body against his, letting her feel the hardness of his erection against her stomach. Lyra moaned softly, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Alaric then began to move, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. He pulled her hair gently, his fingers tangling in the silken strands. He bit her neck, leaving small, love bites on her skin. He even smacked her buttocks repeatedly, the sound echoing through the room.

Lyra gasped and moaned, her body responding to his rough treatment with a mixture of pain and pleasure. She had never been treated like this before, had never experienced such raw, unrestrained passion.

A part of her wanted to protest, to tell him to stop. But another part, a deeper, more primal part, reveled in his dominance, in the feeling of being completely under his control.

She thought of the alternative, the thought of him turning away from her, of him ignoring her, of him treating her with cold indifference. That was a torture she couldn’t endure. The thought of him not wanting her, of him not touching her, was far more painful than any physical discomfort he could inflict.

So, she remained silent, allowing him to do as he pleased, accepting his rough touch, surrendering to his will. She knew, deep down, that this was what she wanted, what she craved. She wanted his attention, his touch, his desire, even if it came in the form of ruthless domination.

Alaric continued his assault, his movements becoming more frantic, more intense. He used her body for his own pleasure, his touch becoming more intimate, more demanding. He explored every inch of her, eliciting moans and gasps of pleasure.

Lyra’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation, her thoughts fragmented, her inhibitions completely shattered. She was lost in the moment, consumed by the intense pleasure that was coursing through her body.

She moaned his name repeatedly, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his back, her body arching beneath his touch.

Alaric continued his relentless assault, his own desire building to a fever pitch. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, her breath quickening as she approached her climax.

He wanted to push her further, to take her to the very edge of her limits, to make her completely lose control. He wanted to hear her scream his name, to feel her body shudder with the intensity of her release.

He continued his movements, his strokes becoming deeper, more powerful, until Lyra reached her peak. Her body shuddered violently, her muscles contracting in a series of intense spasms. She cried out his name, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Alaric, finally reaching his own limit, allowed himself to follow. His own release was a powerful wave that washed over him, his body shuddering with the intensity of it.

They collapsed together, their bodies entwined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The room was silent for a moment, the only sound the soft rhythm of their breathing.

Lyra lay beneath Alaric, her body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. She felt a mixture of exhaustion, relief, and a strange sense of satisfaction. She had once again surrendered to him, had allowed him to take her, to dominate her. And despite the roughness, despite the ruthlessness, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she had experienced.