Chapter 159 - 158: Pamela 7

Chapter 159: Chapter 158: Pamela 7

"Pwah... I’m going to fill you up again, Auntie Pam," Owen growled, his voice thick with desire as he punctuated his words with a deep, powerful thrust. "I’m going to make sure this cheating body of yours carries my mark."

"Ah... don’t say things like that just yet!" Pamela whimpered, her hips shivering against his. "Just... just give it to me!"

Deep down, part of her desperately craved the idea of bearing his child, but she tried to reassure herself that the timing wasn’t right just yet. Besides, according to her own mental calendar, today was supposed to be a safe day—so the danger was minimal, or so she told herself to quiet her lingering doubts.

With a final, forceful drive, Owen came deep inside her once more, his hot release spilling over her slick inner walls.

"How many children do you want to have with me in the future, Auntie?" Owen asked softly, trailing his tongue along the sensitive curve of her neck up to her jawline.

"Ah... I don’t know," Pamela gasped, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. "I can’t say for sure... I don’t want to put too much burden on my husband right now... maybe three?"

She found herself daydreaming about a future where she could continue this thrilling affair with her nephew while letting her oblivious husband assume the responsibilities of fatherhood. In her mind, she would simply call them her ’miracle children.’

"I guess my mother is still leading the count, Auntie," Owen teased with a smirk. When he pulled back slightly, his length was slick and coated with a milky mixture of their combined passion.

"Ah... don’t compare me to Arielle," Pamela protested weakly, craning her neck back as the intense warmth of his tongue sent a sharp jolt through her entire spine. "I’ll think about having more in the future... just don’t pit me against her."

"Oh? So you don’t want to lose to my mom?" Owen chuckled, pulling out completely. Her core remained parted, releasing a heavy stream of warm fluid that glided down her inner thighs. "How about you forget about Uncle entirely and just focus on what we have together?"

"Ah... not right now... maybe when the time is right," Pamela whispered, taking the initiative to lean forward and press her lips against his bare chest, gently licking away the sheen of sweat. "I love you, so don’t worry about anything else."

"Auntie, let’s try something different," Owen said, his eyes darkening as his hand slid down toward her back. "I want to explore your virgin hole."

Without waiting for a formal invitation, he pressed the tip of his middle finger against her tight opening, slowly easing it inside.

There’s no doubt about it, Owen thought, feeling the subtle pulse of her muscles around his fingertip. Even though this place is completely untouched, her body is naturally eager. There’s hardly any resistance compared to Morenne—she’s practically built for this kind of play.

"Ah... wait! That’s... that’s a dirty place," Pamela gasped, her thighs trembling as she tried to wiggle away, though his firm grip made her attempts entirely futile. "That’s not meant for pleasure..."

"I know how clean you keep yourself, Auntie," Owen reassured her, pressing a second finger past her entrance. "Tell me the truth—how many times a day do you actually wash down here?"

"Ah! Is that really necessary to ask right now?" she whimpered, her fingers clutching the edges of the seat. "It’s... it’s standard in the village for women to clean their private areas three to five times a day at bare minimum..." That rule had been strictly drilled into her mind ever since she was a young girl.

"That’s impressive," Owen purred, pushing his fingers a bit deeper. "No wonder none of the women in this village ever have a bad scent. You’re all far too meticulous."

"I... I bathe and clean myself seven times a day... just to be entirely sure!" Pamela confessed breathlessly. "Ah! Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong?" Her voice hitched into a loud moan as Owen slid a third finger inside her tight passage.

"It’s your own fault for lying to me, Auntie," Owen scolded playfully. "You just claimed you were dirty, when you know damn well how clean you are."

Squelch... Squelch... Squelch...

"I... I wasn’t lying!" Pamela whimpered, struggling to keep her thoughts coherent as he worked her tightness. "It just feels wrong to use that hole... my husband always said the only proper place for a man is the vagina..."

Pamela had spent her life adhering to strict, traditional rules. Using such explicit terms and engaging in acts like this was entirely foreign to her, yet the overwhelming sensations made it impossible to resist.

"Your husband doesn’t know the first thing about real pleasure, Auntie," Owen dismissed coldly, pulling his three fingers free. They glistened with her natural moisture. "My poor uncle is far too incompetent—that’s the real reason you were forced to resort to a kitchen ladle handle just to feel satisfied."

He brought his slick fingers up to her lips. "See? There’s nothing dirty about you at all. Taste it yourself."

Pamela hesitated for a fraction of a second before closing her eyes and parting her lips, allowing him to slide his fingers over her tongue. The taste was surprisingly light and sweet, completely dispelling her embarrassment. She sucked gently on his fingers, entirely surrendered to the moment.

"Alright, that’s enough enjoying yourself," Owen chuckled, pulling his hand back. "Stand up now. It’s time to move to my favorite position."

He guided her off the chair. A fleeting flicker of disappointment crossed Pamela’s flushed face when his fingers left her body, but she obediently complied with his command.

"Bend over and rest your arms on the sturdy frame of the chair," Owen instructed, taking a step back to admire the view. "Spread your legs slightly, wiggle your hips, and perform a slow, enticing dance for me."

Pah! Pah! Pah!

Owen brought his open palm down firmly against the plump curve of her rear, leaving bright red marks on her fair skin.

"Ah! You’re... you’re spanking me!" Pamela gasped, turning her head with a startled look.

"Keep moving your hips and give me a proper show, Auntie," Owen ordered with a smirk. "If you refuse to dance, I’ll just have to keep spanking you."

Pamela suddenly went completely still, freezing in place with a subtle, mischievous pout. Owen’s brow twitched in amusement as he realized her game—she was intentionally staying still because she actually enjoyed the stinging discipline!

"Fine, let me rephrase that," Owen said, catching on quickly. "If you don’t start moving your body properly right this second, I won’t spank you at all."

"Ah! Don’t say that!" Pamela gasped, immediately panicked by the threat of losing his touch. "I’ll move! Please don’t give me such a cruel punishment!"

Without another moment’s hesitation, Pamela began to sway her hips rhythmically, sending soft ripples through her plump, well-curved flesh while her heavy chest swayed in tandem below.