Blood Skull

Author: Three Lifetimes
*** *** ***
Synopsis: Blood Skull, a mysterious and dangerous assassin organization, is infamous in the underworld because it has never failed a mission. No one knows how many assassins it has, or what they look like, because those who knew are all gone. Similarly, no one knows who its mastermind is; they can only vaguely guess that 'he' or 'she' possesses immense wealth to support the Blood Skull assassin organization's operation. Until one day, he appeared…
*** *** *** ***
Prologue:
Night, a silent and deep darkness.
A car speeds along the highway. A man in his thirties sits anxiously in the driver's seat. In the back seat, a boy of about ten years old, still sleepy, nestles in the arms of a woman who also looks sleepy. It appears to be a family of three rushing on their way.
The roads were sparsely populated due to the darkness. After driving for a while, the car soon entered a tunnel, with other cars occasionally whizzing past. Suddenly, a blinding beam of light appeared ahead. The man driving the car, startled by the glare, slammed on the brakes. A loud bang was heard as he was slammed against the steering wheel, a large gash on his forehead bleeding profusely. The woman and child were also thrown against the front seats by the force of the impact, their bodies covered in cuts from shattered glass. They lay dazed and confused inside the car.
The man shook his head vigorously to clear his mind. Looking up at the large truck that had collided head-on with his car, his first thought was that he had been in an accident. He immediately turned to check on his wife and children in the back seat, finding them only temporarily unconscious. He endured the pain from his wounds, struggled to kick open the mangled car door, and staggered out, gripping the car body and panting heavily. The violent impact made him feel nauseous.
At that moment, a man wielding a long Japanese sword, wearing a black trench coat and a cruel smile, jumped out of the truck and approached, sneering, "Chu Guohao, you're definitely not an ordinary person. Otherwise, I would have killed you just now."
"Who are you? I don't understand what you're saying?" Chu Guohao's eyes darted around, hoping a car would pass through the tunnel soon, making the other man hesitate.
The man wielding the Japanese longsword seemed to read Chu Guohao's mind and continued to sneer, "You don't need to look anymore. No cars will pass by here at this time. I've already arranged everything. There won't be any cars for at least ten minutes, and it will only take me a second to kill you." He finished speaking and laughed triumphantly, the sound echoing throughout the tunnel.
Chu Guohao asked the laughing man, "Who sent you?" The laughter immediately stopped, and the man clapped his hands, saying, "Good question, but I won't give the answer to someone about to die. That would be pointless. You can die with your doubts!" With that, he slowly drew his Japanese longsword, his eyes fixed on it as if admiring a work of art.
"Hehehe... Chu Guohao, you can die now." As he spoke, the longsword was already swinging.
Chu Guohao instinctively tried to dodge, but the speed of the other man's knife was too fast. The long knife flashed with a cold light and pierced into his chest, exiting directly from his back. Blood gushed from the wound, and a piercing pain made him realize that his life was coming to an end. After the man pulled out the long knife, Chu Guohao fell to the ground, his eyes fixed on his wife and children who were still unconscious in the car. His limbs twitched a few times, and he gradually stopped breathing.
The man quickly searched Chu Guohao's body but found nothing. He then rushed to the car and searched there as well, but to no avail. He took out his phone from his trench coat pocket and dialed a number: "Boss, we didn't find anything. What about Chu Guohao's wife and children?" "..." "Yes, I understand!" The man took out a clean handkerchief and gently wiped the bloodstains off his Japanese longsword. Then, with a speed that was difficult for ordinary people to achieve, he leaped towards the tunnel exit and disappeared into the night in an instant...
Chapter 01
Ten Years in Huanan City, a metropolis with a long history and developed economy.
The poem often says, "Rain falls in torrents during the Qingming Festival," but it didn't rain in Huanan City that day. Only thick, dark clouds covered the sky, making it appear gloomy. On the road to Phoenix Mountain Cemetery, a black Mercedes-Benz SL600 pulled up at the cemetery's entrance. A man and a woman got out. The man looked to be in his forties, his neat black suit giving him a composed and dignified air. He was Zhang Shaoyang, the richest man in Huanan City. The woman, however, defied guessing age. She had the skin of a twenty-year-old, the figure of a thirty-year-old, and the demeanor of a forty-year-old. She wore a black, single-breasted trench coat with a lapel, the hem of which just reached her waist. Her legs were broken, and a two-finger-wide black silk belt cinched her waist, perfectly outlining its graceful lines. Her trench coat had only four buttons in total; the top button was just above her breasts, revealing glimpses of her fair, delicate breasts at the neckline, while the bottom button was slightly below her thigh. As she walked, the slit in the coat peeked out from under her slender thighs, encased in black stockings. Black patent leather high heels clicked on the cobblestones. The woman appeared both dignified and virtuous, yet noble and alluring. This was Zhao Wan'er, Zhang Shaoyang's wife.
Qingming Festival is now largely ignored by modern people, so there were only a few people at the Phoenix Cemetery. Zhang Shaoyang, holding Zhao Wan'er's hand, slowly walked towards the top of the mountain. Zhao Wan'er looked to be around thirty years old, but her skin was as supple as a twenty-year-old girl's, only her figure was more voluptuous. In reality, she was over forty.
Zhang Shaoyang turned to look at the woman beside him. He saw Zhao Wan'er's sorrowful expression; her once bright eyes were now dull and moist. He couldn't help but say, "Wan'er, you're always so heartbroken when we come here for Qingming Festival. Let's not come again next time." Zhao Wan'er didn't speak, but walked silently. After a while, the two arrived at two adjacent, rather ornately decorated tombstones.
Zhang Shaoyang knelt on one knee, stroking the portrait on the tombstone, murmuring, "Brother Chu!
I've come to see you again. Ten years have passed since you left us! Hehe..." He then took three long incense sticks from the side, lit them, and inserted them into the bronze incense burner in front of the tombstone.
Zhang Shaoyang got up and went to stand behind Zhao Wan'er. He saw the woman gently squatting in front of the tombstone, lighting incense and inserting it into the incense burner. She murmured to herself, "Yun'er, your mother has come to see you again. Is the scenery here beautiful? Are you getting used to living here? Are you doing well over there? Don't miss your mother too much. Your mother is doing very well now."
"Yes! My good nephew, your mother has Uncle Zhang to love her. You and Brother Chu can leave everything to me over there without worry!" Zhang Shaoyang took two steps forward, squatted down beside the woman, put his left arm around Zhao Wan'er's waist, and gently stroked her. At the same time, he turned his head and kissed the woman's beautiful face twice.
Zhao Wan'er turned her head, her eyes brimming with tears, and glanced at Zhang Shaoyang. She gave him a light, disgruntled shove and said, "What are you doing?"
Zhang Shaoyang, already unsteady in his squatting position, immediately fell to the ground with the push. He cried out, "Ahhh... Wan'er, what are you doing? Are you trying to murder your husband?"
Seeing her husband's disheveled state, Zhao Wan'er's earlier grief dissipated somewhat. She quickly stood up, extended her right hand to the man, covered her mouth, and said softly with a smile, "It's your fault for always being so irresponsible. Get up, the ground is cold."
A lewd smile flashed across Zhang Shaoyang's face. He abruptly stood up, reached out his left arm, and pulled the woman into his embrace. He whispered in her ear, "I just want to prove to Brother Chu and my dear nephew how much I love you!" Before Zhao Wan'er could even object, he grabbed her cheek with his right hand and thrust his tongue into her forced-open mouth, his rough tongue churning wildly inside.
"Mmm..." Zhao Wan'er pushed against Zhang Shaoyang's shoulders, her body twisting involuntarily. He was her husband, and she didn't have a particularly strong reason to refuse his advances, but she felt it was inappropriate to make love in front of her deceased husband and son's gravestones.
Zhang Shaoyang held Zhao Wan'er tightly, his rough, wet tongue teasing his wife relentlessly. He felt her struggles in his arms gradually weaken, and her hands quietly encircling his neck, her head swaying slightly as she rubbed against his lips, willingly cooperating with him. He released Zhao Wan'er's cheek with his right hand, slowly moving down along the curves of her body. Through her black trench coat, he used his thumb and forefinger to cup the lower edge of her full, firm breasts, squeezing and kneading them for a moment. Then, his palm gently slid down to her flat stomach, unbuttoning the lower center button of her black trench coat, and slipped his right hand inside.
"Ah..." Zhao Wan'er frowned, stood on tiptoe, and suddenly arched her body upwards, her red lips leaving the man's mouth. She tilted her head back, letting out a soft, seductive moan. She knew her private parts were now in her husband's hands.
Zhang Shaoyang breathed his hot breath onto the woman's fair and slender neck, licking her sweet and smooth skin with his mouth. He pressed his right index and middle fingers against her vulva, gently stroking it through her smooth panties, feeling the heat emanating from his wife's vulva.
"Shaoyang, ah...no...don't do this, um...husband, not here...it won't do..."
"Good wife, Wan'er, I want you, right now..."
Zhang Shaoyang whispered in Zhao Wan'er's ear, then took two steps back and reached out to unbutton three buttons on the woman's trench coat. The view inside the open trench coat made Zhang Shaoyang's eyes light up with a fiery light. It turned out that Zhao Wan'er was only wearing a flesh-colored peony lace bodysuit under the trench coat. Two thin elastic shoulder straps hung on her delicate collarbone. The fabric of the bodysuit was slightly transparent, and the hollowed-out pattern on the chest could be vaguely seen, revealing two bright red nipples. The waist and thighs were decorated with lace ruffles, showing the mature sexiness and beauty of the woman's body.
Zhang Shaoyang gently embraced the woman from behind, his large hands kneading and fondling her plump, pert buttocks. He lowered his head and kissed her shoulders tenderly, his expression one of utmost care, as if any force would hurt her delicate skin.
"Mmm..." Zhao Wan'er covered her alluring face with her hands. The man knew her body as well as he knew his own; even the smallest details could arouse her. However, the inappropriate time and place placed her in a delicate psychological state, as if her deceased husband and son were watching her from beyond, giving her a strong, perverse pleasure. This perverse pleasure made her feel ashamed, yet she was powerless to resist it, so she could only cover her face with her hands to escape.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/28087.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=28087&aspx=1

Previous Page : The Landlady's Lust

Next Page : Mommy's tender hole

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Blood Skull

comment Open a new window to view comments