Cocoon (Lily ABO) - Chapter 7

Han Jingman’s head rested in the crook of Ling Yu’s arm. The moment her soaked hair left the water, a few ripples cascaded through the tub as Ling Yu turned away. A trail of water droplets marked their path toward the bedroom.

Ling Yu leaned down, kneeling on the mattress with one knee as she placed the woman down. The soft mattress dipped instantly under the combined weight of the two. Ling Yu hurriedly propped up Han Jingman’s head and wrapped her wet hair in a towel, blotting the moisture bit by bit.

However, Han Jingman, tormented by desire, was clearly dissatisfied with Ling Yu’s considerate service; her expectant body felt empty once again. Her aching frame writhed restlessly beneath the light silk duvet, her long legs kicking out as the unreleased void forced her to trap a corner of the quilt between her thighs, rubbing back and forth.

The increasingly heavy breathing in her ear and Han Jingman’s piteous pleas for mercy were like a bucket of gasoline poured onto Ling Yu’s roaring fire of desire.

Ling Yu tossed the towel aside and pulled back the silk duvet that Han Jingman had ruffled. The naked body beneath her was now exposed without reservation. Looking down at her, Ling Yu reached out and snatched the corner of the quilt from between her legs; the light-colored fabric bore a conspicuous, dark damp patch. Ling Yu’s dark pupils deepened. She seized Han Jingman’s arms, pinning them to the mattress, then leaned down to kiss the red lips she had long lusted after.

The tender kiss began at Han Jingman’s lips, traveling past the bridge of her nose and her cheeks before finally stopping at her ear.

As if in a dream, Ling Yu gazed at the woman’s exquisite features—the slight twitch of her nostrils, the red lips murmuring softly… She couldn’t help but lean down to kiss the lips she had craved for years once more. Her tongue pried open the eager seam of her lips, easily finding that lively little tongue. As she invaded her territory, Han Jingman sensed Ling Yu’s scent and joyfully met her halfway.

Ling Yu returned everything Han Jingman had done in the bathroom in full. She had always been a top student, and her best skill was learning through application. Thus, Ling Yu ravaged Han Jingman’s mouth thoroughly, tracing the shape of every single tooth.

Sensing Ling Yu’s intent to withdraw, Han Jingman’s little tongue followed hers out in a panic, her pink tip exposed to the air. Ling Yu didn’t hesitate to catch it in her mouth, dragging the startled tongue back into her own domain to suckle and kiss it deeply. Only when Ling Yu had her fill did she finally release the limp tongue back into its place.

Having been so thoroughly loved, the corners of Han Jingman’s eyes held an amorous glow, and her eyelashes were damp. Though her arms were pinned, her body restlessly entwined around Ling Yu’s waist. She craved for Ling Yu to use more force, to touch her more; every part of her body yearned to be cherished.

“Mmh… faster… a bit harder…”

Ling Yu no longer hesitated. She efficiently shed her top, her smooth body pressing against Han Jingman as her burning lips and tongue traveled downward.

Her palms cupped the lovely breasts; the slippery sensation against her fingertips felt as if they were coated in milk. The pink areolae shyly surrounded the unripened fruit, the small nipples standing proud and defiant.

Ling Yu squeezed her fingers shut and then released them, leaving five-finger marks on the white flesh that turned from red to pink. Her fingertips flicked the tender buds, teasing them back and forth—pressing them down suddenly, then letting them spring back. Ling Yu watched the nipples go from unripened to fully blooming, enjoying herself immensely.

“Don’t… don’t do that…”

Han Jingman whimpered, trying to pull away. The more Ling Yu acted this way, the more the depths of her vagina burned. Ling Yu, however, wickedly pinned the beauty down and refused to let go. Once she had teased her enough, she opened her mouth and took a ripened fruit inside, her tongue crushing and licking it, vowing to squeeze the juice from this plump fruit.

Han Jingman’s fingertips rested on Ling Yu’s bare back, unable to stop herself from scratching her with force.

“You bully… ugh…”

Being bullied so severely, Han Jingman no longer suppressed her cries into low sobs; she burst into actual tears. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, disappearing into the sheets.

Ling Yu realized she had gone too far. Ignoring the scratch marks on her back, she tenderly kissed away each overflowing tear.

“It’s my fault, I’m a bully.” She had originally worried that her lack of experience would cast a shadow over this encounter, so she had been extremely gentle and lingering from the start. She hadn’t realized that her “consideration” was a form of sweet torture for the induced Han Jingman.

Han Jingman’s waist was slender and firm, her abdomen as smooth as a river plain; few office workers could maintain such a clear “vest line” (abs). Ling Yu’s kisses fell on her lovely navel, her tongue sliding along the defined obliques, leaving a trail of faint moisture.

The lonely, aching pussy could no longer wait, arching upward urgently to deliver itself to Ling Yu’s mouth, a delicate image of “plucking a flower.” Ling Yu’s lips descended, approaching the source of the increasingly potent red wine scent—the aroma now thick and humid.

Amazed by the wetness of the pussy, Ling Yu saw that the pink folds could not contain the nectar pouring out; beneath the “lush grass” was a shimmering, dewy landscape.

“So beautiful…” Ling Yu stared dazed at the entrance that was pulsing on its own. She couldn’t help but swallow hard.

She didn’t rush to enjoy that sweetness. Instead, she leaned up to kiss Han Jingman’s shimmering eyes.

“What should I do… I can’t bear to.” She was afraid that one careless move would break the woman beneath her.

Between Han Jingman’s legs was already a total mess. The soul-piercing craving and itch had long since made her cast aside her reserve. She met Ling Yu’s kiss, arching her body to press closer.

“Taste me… it’s very sweet…”

How could Ling Yu resist such an invitation from her beloved? She pulled apart Han Jingman’s long, crossed legs. The scenery at the core of her thighs left her intoxicated. The hidden, exquisite pearl had been tucked away in the folds for so long without being found that it now peeked out shyly on its own.

Ling Yu lowered her head like a reckless child. Her fingers parted the pink folds, and she took it directly into her mouth.

“Mmh-ah!”

Han Jingman let out a trembling, satisfied moan. Her fingers threaded through Ling Yu’s soft hair, gripping tightly as her pussy began to shiver uncontrollably, desperately pushing itself toward Ling Yu’s lips and tongue.

It was so soft, so tender. Her every breath was filled with the enchanting scent Han Jingman was releasing. It was wet and slippery, a place to drown in. Ling Yu couldn’t resist darting her tongue out to strike the firmest fruit among the folds.

As her tongue slid over Han Jingman’s most sensitive pussy, the woman cried out and tugged hard on Ling Yu’s hair. A sting went through her scalp, and Ling Yu reluctantly let go of the delicacy for a moment—only to turn back and nip the fragile pearl with her teeth in a vengeful act. Han Jingman’s virgin territory had never seen such a battle; the walls of the hole tightened and squeezed out a mouthful of nectar, trying to flee the shackles of Ling Yu’s mouth.

Trying to run?

Ling Yu reached out and seized the firm little buttocks, using a bit of force to drag her prey back down. Her hands tightly encircled the base of Han Jingman’s thighs, prying her open even wider.

Caught between fire and ice, Han Jingman was tormented until her breaths were short and shallow. She was simultaneously craving Ling Yu’s touch and terrified of her teasing. Her firm breasts and belly rose and fell with her difficult breathing, the swaying landscape dazzling Ling Yu’s eyes.

She hadn’t tasted enough of Han Jingman yet.

Ling Yu kissed the slippery pussy once more, her flexible tongue playing with the tiny pearl that had nowhere to hide. Suddenly, the tip of her tongue sank into an even wetter, stickier, vagina. Stunned for a second, Ling Yu instantly clamped onto the base of Han Jingman’s thighs, refusing to let the woman move an inch. Her wet tongue followed this warmth and plunged urgently inward. The pussy hole, overflowing with fluid, tightened suddenly under the attack, squeezing even more sweetness out toward Ling Yu’s tongue.

Ling Yu greedily sucked the fruits of her labor, her tongue hooking and swirling inside the path, driving Han Jingman to the heights of ecstasy. Han Jingman’s body shook violently, her arms flailing in the air before falling weakly onto the sheets, her fingers suddenly clutching the fabric tight.

“I beg you… I beg you… ugh-ah!”

She had lost count of how many times Han Jingman had begged her tonight. Ling Yu closed her eyes, her tongue thrusting rapidly a few times before plunging deep with force, suddenly striking a sensitive protrusion.

Han Jingman screamed, her legs kicking straight. Her lower abdomen tightened, and her pussy shuddered violently, gushing a large amount of nectar as she finally, obediently, released her tide of passion against Ling Yu’s tongue.