MILF Desire System: The Degenerate Son's Forbidden Path

Damon padded out of his room and made his way through the entrance hall and living room before ascending the stairs toward the second-floor dining hall.

He felt like he had just crawled out of his old skin and into a new one.

His body felt firmer against the floor, smoother, steadier, and just a little more athletic.

It was nothing exaggerated really that would make anyone point and scream that he had changed overnight. Only he could truly feel the difference from the quiet strength humming under his skin, the way every step felt more grounded, the subtle power that coiled in his thighs and core.

Whatever the system had done to him on that bathroom floor, it had been thorough.

He’d woken up in a puddle of his own sweat with the tile stuck to his cheek and something like a black goo and foul circling the drain that he had decided, immediately and permanently, never to think about again.

[Disgusting, Host?] That was an understatement of the century.

Otherwise, everything else stayed the same; okay, everything except his presence.

He could feel it.

There was a new confidence than what Lilith had trained in him, the subtle, a more asserting weight that now clung to him like a second shadow.

Even as he climbed the stairs to meet his family, Damon knew they would sense something different.

But dont get him wrong, that didn’t worry Damon at all he was in fact looking forward to it.

He wanted to watch their faces while he read them like open books.

Damon had never pretended to be innocent, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now; this family dinner was about to become so useful to him an the path he’d just embraced and embarked on.

His step-sisters would be there, sure. But the real prizes were already waiting upstairs —

’My three hot aunts... and Camilla.’

Bubbling with happiness and pure mischievous energy, he quickened his pace clearing his throat playfully, and the quick movements made the heavy weight between his legs swing freely in his pants.

Fuck.

The new weight of his huge dick was something else.

’I wonder if I’ll have to change some of my few pants.’

Even with his cock soft, it still hung heavier and longer than before between his legs; it was now thicker, denser and the weight of it made the front of his pants shift with every step to took on the stairs as it swung back and forth, front and back.

’Is back and forth, front and back the same thing?’

Anyway the part he couldn’t get over with was that every stride sent the Primordial Rod rolling against his thigh in lazy heavy drags of it’s skin onto fabric of his pants, reminding him it was there like it had opinions about the pace.

Damon too, tonight hadn’t bothered to restrain it.

The tent was already more prominent than he expected, the thick outline was clear against the fabric and the shape of the head of his dick in all it’s sheer size was visible onto his front if anyone looked long enough.

The Milf-Slayer was still half-asleep and well behaved for now... yet it was already announcing itself like it owned the house better than his erect cock used to.

How big would it get once it fully woke up?

He was about to find out in a room full of four hot MILFs and mature women.

And sure enough the moment he stepped into the main family dining hall and laid eyes on Camilla and his aunts, the shark between his legs smelled blood:

His dick stirred hard awake in a slow, heavy throb that made the fabric of his pants big at the front and tighten even more; the whole thick length shifted and begun to climb between Damon’s thigh.

There were six women seated around the long table. Damon didn’t give a single fuck about how long or expensive the table was. His eyes only had room for the divine sights in front of him.

Camilla was still wearing the exact same outfit from earlier; the white blouse was tied loosely at the front, the knot sitting low against the soft curve of her stomach, fabric pulling just tight enough across her heavy chest that every small breath made it strain. That pale green skirt hugged her hips like it had been cut for the sole purpose of torturing him, clinging to the full, thick shape of her ass and the wide flare beneath it.

Looking at her now, Damon felt like he was already seeing her stripped down to nothing but that blue lace thong. The memory of it flashing between her thick thighs earlier hit him all over again — the thin straps digging into soft flesh, the dark fabric disappearing into the deep cleft of that fat, round ass, the plump folds of her pussy barely hidden underneath.

His cock rose another thick degree as a dozen filthy fantasies unfolded at once: that skirt shoved to her waist, the thong yanked aside, those heavy tits spilling out of the blouse while he buried himself in her right there at the table.

He was on verge of walking around the table right now and grabbing her by the waist, pushing that green skirt up over her ass and yanking the thong he’d seen to the side in one rough motion; bending her over the polished wood while everyone else was still eating, sliding into that tight, neglected pussy and making her bite down on her lip to stay quiet. He could almost hear the soft, wet sound of his cock sinking into her.

He could almost feel her walls fluttering around him while she tried not to moan in front of the whole family—

Damon shook his head slightly but didn’t look away.

His cock kept rising, stubborn and greedy, as if it was undressing her over and over again on its own — peeling the blouse open, freeing those heavy D-cup tits, watching them sway as he fucked her from behind.

Too bad the system hadn’t given him an X-ray ability.

He’d be feasting his eyes on her body—

...No. He wouldn’t dare.

But still.

A boy could dream.

His two step-sisters were also there, Damon registered their presence, nodded faintly to them, and moved on.

They weren’t the ones making his blood heat up right now.

The real problem — the beautiful, dangerous problem — were his three aunts:

His step-mother’s sisters.

All of them dressed provocatively, the way they always did once the sun went down and the house relaxed. Nighttime had always been Damon’s favorite time at home:

Everyone wore something to feel little freer, a little softer and a little more careless with their clothes.

And tonight one of them was making it so much worse.

Lilim — his mother’s eldest sister...

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