I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

“Father… I—” she started, her voice soft, almost pleading, but the Marquis raised his hand and silenced her.

Shayla’s head turned slightly, her lips still close to Vigg’s throat, her hand never pausing its rhythmic strokes on his throbbing cock.

“Come, Aryl,” she coaxed. “Your brother needs us both. Show him how much you love him.” Her thumb circled the tip of Vigg’s cock again, drawing a choked moan from him.

Aryl hesitated, her fingers twisting in the sheets, but her eyes locked on Vigg’s flushed face, his body trembling under their mother’s touch.

“Vigg… do you want me to?” she whispered, her lips parting as she leaned closer. Her hand reached out, tentative, brushing against his thigh, her touch cold against his fevered skin.

Vigg’s eyes snapped open, wide and glassy, caught between shame and the overwhelming heat of his mother’s hands.

“Aryl,” he gasped, his voice raw, “I… I don’t know if we should.” But his hips bucked again, betraying his words, his cock pulsing under Shayla’s relentless grip.

“It feels… Mother’s hands are so warm, so tight… and now you…” His words trailed off into a broken whimper as Aryl’s fingers trailed higher, grazing the base of his shaft where Shayla’s hand still worked.

“Shh, my sweet boy,” Shayla purred, her lips brushing Vigg’s ear as she guided Aryl’s hand to join hers. “Let your sister feel you too. Let us both claim you.”

Her voice was a seductive command, her fingers intertwining with Aryl’s, showing her how to stroke, how to tease.

Aryl’s touch was hesitant at first, but grew bolder, her fingers wrapping around Vigg’s cock alongside her mother’s, their combined warmth sending a shudder through his entire body.

“Brother… I want to make you feel good,” Aryl murmured, her voice soft but laced with a growing hunger. “Like Mother does.”

She pressed a tentative kiss to his skin, her hand moving in sync with Shayla’s.

The Marquis’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes burning as he watched his wife and daughter bind their son to them.

“Shayla,” he said, his voice slicing through the moans and gasps filling the chamber, “your mouth is acting too much.”

His gaze bore into her, a silent command to rein in her words and focus on the act.

Shayla’s hand paused for a heartbeat, her fingers still wrapped around Vigg’s throbbing cock. She met the Marquis’s stare, her lips curving into a submissive yet defiant smile.

“Forgive me, my lord,” she purred, “but our boy needs his mother’s voice to guide him.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing Vigg’s ear, her breath hot and teasing. “Don’t you, my sweet boy? Tell me how my hands feel, how they pull you apart.”

Vigg’s chest heaved, his body trembling under the combined touch of his mother and sister. “Mother… your hands,” he gasped, “they’re so tight, so warm… like they’re claiming every part of me.”

His eyes fluttered shut, a whimper escaping as Shayla’s thumb resumed its slow, torturous circling of his cock’s tip, spreading the slickness further.

Aryl’s fingers, still tentative, followed her mother’s rhythm, her touch growing bolder as she stroked Vigg’s shaft alongside Shayla. Her lips lingered on his chest, her tongue tracing a slow path downward.

“Brother,” she whispered, “you’re so hard… does it feel good when we touch you like this?” Her breath was warm against his skin, her kisses growing hungrier, inching closer to where their hands worked in unison.

Shayla’s eyes flicked back to the Marquis, a silent plea for approval, before she leaned closer to Vigg. “Go on, my love, let your sister taste you now,” she urged, guiding Aryl’s head lower until her lips hovered near Vigg’s cock.

Her fingers tightened around him, squeezing it slightly, as Aryl’s lips parted, her breath teasing the sensitive tip.

The Marquis leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark satisfaction.

Aryl’s lips trembled as they brushed the tip of Vigg’s cock, the contact sending a jolt through his already quivering body. Encouraged by Shayla’s guiding hand, she parted her lips further, taking him into her mouth with a hesitant but growing hunger.

Her tongue swirled slowly, tasting the slick arousal that coated him, her soft moan vibrating against his skin.

“Brother,” she murmured, her voice muffled “I’m feeding you now…” Her eyes flicked up to meet Vigg’s searching for approval as she sucked gently, her lips tightening around him.

Vigg’s head fell back, a strangled groan escaping his throat as Aryl’s warmth enveloped him.

“Aryl… your mouth,” he gasped. “It’s so soft… so wrong, but… I can’t…” His hips bucked involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth, his hands clutching the sheets as if to anchor himself against the tide of sensation.

“Mother, Aryl… you’re both… tearing me apart.”

Shayla’s smile was a mix of pride and possession, her hand still stroking the base of Vigg’s cock.

“That’s it, my sweet girl,” she purred as she leaned close, her breasts pressing against Vigg’s side. “Feed your brother. Show him how our family binds together.”

Her thumb grazed the sensitive skin where her hand met Aryl’s lips, a teasing touch that made Vigg shudder harder. “Doesn’t your sister’s mouth feel good, Vigg? Tell us how much you love it.”

Vigg’s breath came in ragged pants, his body trembling as Aryl’s lips slid further down his shaft.

“It’s… too much,” he whimpered, his voice barely audible.

His eyes darted to the Marquis, seeking mercy or judgment, but found only the man’s burning gaze, unyielding and satisfied.

The Marquis’s fingers tapped lightly on the arm of his chair, his lips curling into a deeper smile.

“Good,” he said, his voice low and approving. “Our blood belongs to each other. Show him, Aryl. Make him yours.”

Vigg’s moans grew desperate, his body arching off bed as Aryl’s mouth worked with a hunger that matched her mother’s relentless strokes.

Shayla’s hand tightened further, urging him toward the edge.

“That’s it, my sweet boy,” she whispered. “Let it all go for us. Show your mother and sister how much you’re ours.”

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