Shen Qingqiu wants to kill Airplane bro so bad. Then again, when did he ever not want to kill that shitty, good for nothing, hack of a writer? Curse him and his shitty, shitty novel.
Again, with the sex plot devices! Airplane bro, you goddamn virgin, what’s with all the stupid aphrodisiac plants in your goddamn story? If not a flower, then a fruit. If not a sex fruit, then it’s probably some vegetable! If not a vegetable, then it’s a goddamn flower. Couldn’t you have you mixed it up a little, bro?
Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes, and tries to calm himself down. Binghe’s pathetic sniffling in the background doesn’t exactly help, though.
“Shizun.” Shen Qingsiu’s pathetic puppy eyed disciple (husband) whimpers, kneeling in front of his darling master while said master sat in a chair, trying to think of a way to deal with the problem. Shen Qingqiu tries to ignore Binghe’s panting and how he’s holding himself back from rutting against this poor master’s leg. “Shizun, this disciple is so sorry for disobeying.”
“Binghe, it’s not your fault.” Shen Qingqiu says all while lying through his teeth. He drops a gentle hand on top of his husband’s head and Binghe immediately whines, grinding against Shen Qingqiu’s leg.
Shen Qingqiu has to hold back a shudder as he feels the wetness from Binghe’s dick through his robes. That’s really too wet… Binghe, don’t tell this master that you already came untouched?
He withdraws his hand, paying no mind to Binghe’s pitiful cry when he does so. With an inaudible sigh, he thinks back to what started all this.
Binghe! Didn’t this master warn you not to wander too far into the cave they were exploring earlier? They were… searching for some herbs or rare plants or some sort, whatever Mu Qingfang had requested them the other day. Apparently said herbs were an important ingredient to some medicine or potion or some other thing Mu Qingfang was raving about, and could only be could be found in that cave because the dumb plants could only survive with a specific certain amount of qi that stayed consistent there. Or whatever bullshit reason Airplane pulled out of his ass while writing Proud Immortal Demon Way.
It wasn’t really all that important – what was important was that Binghe, in his attempt to show off to his beloved shizun that he could find the most medicinal plants, ran off deeper into the cave to gather them even though Shen Qingqiu very explicitly told him not to do that.
Internally, Shen Qingqiu held his head in despair and groaned while watching his puppy of a husband sprint ahead. Luo Binghe, where did all your brain cells go? You can’t just enthusiastically run off, no matter how adorable it is! While the rare medicinal herb/plant/flower/thing was only found in the cave, it was also home to many other flora! Specifically that damn Sex Flower™ that Airplane wrote in, which was also very conveniently similar in appearance to the medicinal herb that they were looking for. And of course as a result, Binghe got doused by the flower’s pollen, because apparently as a defense mechanism from getting plucked from it’s home, the flower will spit out a bunch of (typically) poisonous pollen.
Ah yes, the Sex Flower. There were a million – billion – sex flowers and aphrodisiacs in Proud Immortal Demon way, but this one got dubbed The Sex Flower™ on all the online novel forums because of it’s effect that it had specifically on demons. That is, it lowered the refractory time of demons to zero. Yes, you heard that right. Zero . After the original Binghe got a handful of aphrodisiac flowers’ damn pollen blasted into his face, he was able to fuck for several days straight, cumming again and again into and onto his wives.
In other words, it was simply used for the marathon sex trope! Along with some other indescribable and absolutely insufferable tropes that Shang Qinghua shoved into maybe thirty chapters of terribly written porn. Shen Qingqiu let his eyes glaze over it when he was reading. And then he skipped ahead, as it was maybe like 40k words of the same shit over and over: red bruises and lovebites blossoming on white jade-like skin when Binghe marked his lovers with his teeth, endless tears and moans of pleasure, squelching wet pussies, etcetera etcetera.
Not to mention, fucking Airplane had written that Binghe went through maybe a third of his harem of 300+ beauties within a few days straight because of the flower’s pollen. He’d even been fucking them while doing boring logistical emperor demon stuff! Using them as cockwarmers! And the effect lasted for a whole month. Whilst reading that little tidbit, Shen Qingqiu had lit a candle in his heart for the poor ladies in Binghe’s harem; demon stamina sure is something else.
But now he’s about to light a candle for himself and his ass. He is not 300 beautiful women who can satiate a stallion protagonist’s lust! Hell, he usually can’t even last two rounds with Binghe during sex before passing out! Hello!? Shen Qingqiu’s about to get fucked to death if he doesn’t do something here! Even while dragging Binghe home, his horny disciple tried to undress him and fuck him right there in the cave. And then in the forest path on the way home. And then on Shen Qingqiu’s peak, in front of all the other poor disciples.
Shen Qingqiu really feels like crying. But then that would cause Binghe to start crying… er, crying even more than he is now, that is. And then Shen Qingqiu would give in and let Binghe go to town on his ass, just so his sticky disciple would stop sobbing all over his robes, and then he’d be the one to cry even more because his ass is getting destroyed.
Thank god for the original good’s poker face.
All while lamenting the demise of his asshole, Shen Qingqiu’s husband started to squirm uncomfortably. His breath becomes even more unsteady and irregular, the occasional moan slipping out of his mouth. The tent in Luo Binghe’s robes is incredibly huge, and there’s also a very noticeable wet spot. It’s so wet that it kind of looks like Binghe pissed his pants, but Shen Qingqiu isn’t going to say that out loud.
“Shizun,” Binghe cries, tears dripping down his face as he squirms and grips his own thighs. “Please, I can’t hold back anymore… it’s hot and it hurts… shizun, please , help me… this disciple... I can’t, I really can’t, shizun– ”
If Binghe begs that prettily…
Shen Qingqiu sighs. Binghe visibly perks up, awaiting his husband’s verbal consent to fuck the pollen out. He’s still red faced and panting heavily, but this time he looks up at Shen Qingqiu excitedly.
“Alright.” Shen Qingqiu agrees, though the corner of his lips turn downwards slightly. He’s not exactly looking forward to this, but if it gets too bad then maybe he can go get Mu Qingfang for something that could mitigate the pollen's effect a bit? “However, this master would like to–”
But before he could say anything else (he wanted to go over some rules! Binghe, let’s set some times for breaks!? Or else this master of yours really will die from your cock), Luo Binghe immediately rose to his feet. Eagerly, he lifted his husband from his seat, nearly running to the bed, all while ripping Shen Qingqiu’s robes off his body.
My dearest disciple, hold back a little please, that’s some very expensive silk that you destroyed you know?
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t realize he said that out loud, until Binghe practically growls into his ear: “I’ll buy you even better clothes.”
And with that, Shen Qingqiu shivers in anticipation (from fear or lust, he can’t really tell, all too caught up in Binghe's hungry stare), as he lays on the bed about to be absolutely devoured by his husband.
“Binghe, Binghe slow down –”
Luo Binghe pays no heed to Shen Qingqiu’s cries, sliding his mouth down from his husband’s neck to his chest, until his lips catch onto a nipple. Shen Qingqiu moans as Binghe latches onto it, biting and pushing at his chest with fervor, as if he was trying to suck out milk. Which is impossible, because, well, he’s a man? Binghe, why are you sucking so enthusiastically for? Shen Qingqiu sincerely hopes there isn’t a lactating inducing plant out there, and if there is, he’d prefer to stay far, far away from it.
Binghe pulls back to lave at Shen Qingqiu’s gradually swelling chest with his tongue, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. And then he’s moving to further down, leaving kisses on the other’s stomach. Then, he bites at Shen Qingqiu’s hip.
Shen Qingqiu lets out a strangled, totally unsexy, yelp at the pain of Binghe’s teeth marking him – and immediately feels wetness on his legs. He looks down at his bare legs and at Binghe’s dick. There’s cum over his legs, dripping from the other’s cock.
Did Binghe really just cum untouched…? Also, wasn’t that too fast?! Faster than their usual sessions, even!
Binghe, what happened to your stallion protagonist's stamina?
Shen Qingqiu looks back up at Binghe’s face, somewhat disbelievingly. If Binghe had dog ears or a tail, they’d be drooping from shame.
“Shizun,” he starts off, embarrassment coloring his voice. “I couldn’t help it! You sounded so sexy...” Binghe trails off at the end while his cheeks heat up.
In what way was a choked groan of pleasure/pain sexy, Binghe? This master worries for you and questions your tastes.
Shen Qingqiu looks down again at Binghe’s dick, and lo and behold, it’s rock hard again. It’s really as if it never went soft in the first place, red and stiff and heavy. Damn the flower’s stamina jizz.
Wordlessly, Shen Qingqiu spreads his legs, inviting Binghe to go to town on his ass.
Luo Binghe does not fuck into his shizun. Yet.
Nooo, it’s just that Luo Binghe is taking his time to finger his shizun, making him writhe on the bed sheets as those thick fingers of his rubs at his prostate every once in a while. Which is very strange; all the other times that Binghe got hit with aphrodisiacs he always wanted to put his monstrous cock inside Shen Qingqiu almost immediately.
Not that Shen Qingqiu is complaining. The stretching and prep is very much appreciated, thank you! Hey, maybe he can get through the whole sex pollen deal with just fingering and maybe some handjobs?
Binghe spreads him on two fingers, then three, four–
I-is that Binghe’s thumb? Binghe, you can’t, that is, you really shouldn’t, this master needs mental preparation before you want to fist him, okay?
“Shizun you’re taking me so well.” Binghe moans unabashedly when Shen Qingqiu clenches around his fingers. He teases the rim with his thumb, rubbing at it and spreading lube. “Shizun, do you think my hand could fit inside you? You’re so wet and wonderful, it’d fit in so easily.”
“Binghe, no, don’t you dare!” Shen Qingqiu can’t quite hold himself back from snapping at the other, but then he immediately lets out a whine when Binghe pulls his fingers out of his now well-stretched hole.
Luo Binghe pulls Shen Qingqiu’s hips towards him, moving his lover so he’s now on his knees and falling forward, resting his head on his forearms on the bed. Before Shen Qingqiu knows it, Binghe’s cock is nudging at his hole, hot and large. Binghe pushes forward slowly, the head of his cock popping through the ring of muscles easily. And then he’s cumming already.
Binghe’s cum is hot, wet and slippery as it spurts inside him. Shen Qingqiu can’t help but sob a gasp, jerking forwards at the feel of it.
That... wasn’t too bad? Or so he thinks. The thought quickly disappears from Shen Qingiu’s mind when Binghe shoves his cock inside even more, faster and more eager this time.
Shen Qingqiu shivers as Binghe’s cock stretches him around its girth, filling him up, forcing his guts to conform to its shape.
Well. At least Binghe stretched him out first.
Shen Qingqiu is starting to regret this.
They already went three? Four? rounds, and Binghe does not look like he’d be stopping any time soon. Please, can’t we take a quick break, Shen Qingqiu wants to ask. Alas, the sex flower jizz says no, and Binghe keeps on going and going. Shen Qingqiu suspects that his husband used his demon blood to keep him from passing out at the second round, giving Shen Qingqiu more stamina to keep up with him.
Barely enough stamina, but whatever. Logistics.
Currently, Shen Qingqiu is crying as he clings to Binghe, wrapping his legs around Binghe’s waist, trembling uncontrollably. He hiccups a few times as he sobs out “Binghe!” and “slower, slower” along with the other pathetic noises ever to be produced by a human being. Which seems to spurn his husband on even more anyways, seeing how Luo Binghe practically jackrabbits into his body.
Shen Qingqiu can tell Binghe is getting close to cumming again by the way his dear husband grows even more desperate, pounding into him so hard that Shen Qingqiu is certain going to be bruises on his asscheeks. With a yell, Shen Qingqiu dry orgasms – there’s no more cum left in his dick, nope! – shuddering and losing control. His vision is all blurry from the tears in his eyes, and he’s pretty sure he’s drooling. Not to mention his face feels like it’s on fire and that there are strands of hair sticking to his skin everywhere.
Apparently the sight is sexy enough for Binghe though, as it draws a whimper from his throat. Binghe keeps fucking into his shizun, thrusting into him through his aftershocks and shivers, until Binghe cums himself, deep, deep inside his beloved. It’s so much cum, that Binghe’s cock can’t even prevent leaks, fluid dripping onto the bed sheets.
Shen Qingqiu moans weakly as he feels Binghe’s cock throbbing inside him, hot and heavy.
And then Binghe starts to move again, not even pulling out.
“Binghe, no more, please,” Shen Qingqiu begs, sobbing even. “I really can’t, this master really can’t go on any more–”
“Shizun.” Binghe interrupts, kissing Shen Qingqiu on the lips. Distantly, Shen Qingqiu thinks Binghe has improved on kissing – although it’s really just less biting and more slobbering.
Shen Qingqiu’s cum laces his thighs as Binghe thrusts once, twice, into him.
“Shizun,” Binghe says again, moaning into the other’s open panting mouth. “Just one more time, I think I’m almost done, one more time, please–”
There’s no way Binghe’s almost done, Shen Qingqiu despairingly shouts in his mind. The flower made the original protagonist go on for a month straight, what makes you think just a handful of rounds will cure you, Binghe!
He seriously contemplates bolting out of their bamboo home and calling for help.
Binghe begs him again, that alluring voice of his breathing out a “just one more time, shizun” in his ear.
As usual, Shen Qingqiu can never refuse his most treasured disciple.
Shen Qingqiu is unable to hold back a shudder when Binghe pulls out of him for the nth time. Oh, his poor muscles, his poor ass… his hole is all loose and weak. Shen Qingqiu can feel himself back there try to close up, alas to no avail. Globs of cum immediately starts to dribble out of his loose asshole, dripping down his thighs and onto the sheets. It’s kind of like a river of cum, Shen Qingqiu thinks to himself and breathes out a short laugh.
Jesus, the sheets. They’re going to have to throw these sheets out afterwards, aren’t they? They’re completely unsalvageable. If not from the ludicrous amounts of cum and sweat and tears, then from the tears Shen Qingqiu made when Binghe fucked him a little too hard.
Shen Qingqiu snaps out of his thoughts and catches Binghe staring at him – or to be more specific, staring at his gaping asshole. He swallows, nervously.
“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu calls out to his husband. Luo Binghe licks his lips, staring at his cum staining the sheets, and opens his mouth.
“Shizun, you look so good.” Binghe starts to babble, stroking Shen Qingqiu’s ass, rubbing his hands all over his husband’s hot skin. “I, this disciple, this husband, I… shizun, you’re incredible, so beautiful with all my semen inside you, dripping out of you.”
Binghe doesn’t stop talking, unfortunately. “I should keep you full with my cum all the time, so full that you’d be dripping even with a toy inside you. Shizun, let me make you feel good again, please, husband, I’ll make you feel so good that you can’t help but beg for more.”
Oh my god. Shen Qingqiu’s ears reddens so very quickly. Binghe, where did you learn to dirty talk? Does he have to burn another copy of the Resentment of Chunshan?
Shen Qingqiu chokes on his words before he can get them out. Two of Binghe’s fingers are shoved inside him again. Fingering again? Usually Shen Qingqiu would take that over Binghe’s pillar of (m)ass destruction, but he’s so sensitive, his hole is probably red and swollen, that it almost hurts.
His discomfort probably shows on his face, because Binghe starts to stimulate his demon blood inside Shen Qingqiu, relieving some of the pain and soreness of his body.
Before Shen Qingqiu can appreciate it though, he’s yanked by Binghe, back on the bed and face looking up at the ceiling. He’s almost bent in half, ass in the air while Binghe looms over him, a hungry look in his eyes.
Binghe kisses his thighs, sucking and biting every once in a while. Shen Qingqiu grips the sheets underneath his fingers, probably hard enough to tear them again.
Suddenly, Binghe blows at Shen Qingqiu’s gaping hole, huffing out a small laugh when Shen Qingqiu clenches down on nothing and moans from the sensation. More cum dribbles out, and with a single hand, Binghe scoops up the cum that leaked out of Shen Qingqiu’s body before not-so-gently shoving it back inside him.
Binghe fucks Shen Qingqiu with his fingers earnestly, seemingly amused when his own cum spurts out. Then he scoops it back up again, and stuffs that puffy asshole with his cum again, and again. Shen Qingqiu is utterly embarrassed at how much he’s leaking, his hands shakily reaching out to Binghe to get him to stop, but Binghe simply slaps them away as he continues to play with his cum.
Exhausted, Shen Qingqiu can only lay there and let Binghe do what he wants.
Shen Qingqiu wakes with a jolt, gasping at the feeling of Binghe fucking into him.
He winces when Binghe thrusts particularly deep – it doesn’t go unnoticed. Binghe stops moving and looks at Shen Qingqiu with mild concern. Good to know that even though Binghe’s mind is muddled with lust, he’s still able to worry about his very sore shizun.
“Shizun? Are you feeling okay?”
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he does feel slightly rejuvenated. Although…
His ass feels incredibly wet and sensitive. Wait, not even his ass, what is that feeling in his abdomen? Shen Qingqiu blinks, then blearily looks down to where he and Binghe are connected.
He feels his jaw drop a bit – here’s a small bulge to his stomach… maybe it was just Binghe’s dick? It wouldn't be the first time for Binghe to be so deep in him that there’d be a slight protrusion of Shen Qingqiu’s belly thanks to his cock. Binghe had always been enamored by the sight of it, his cock pressing against Shen Qingqiu’s abdominal walls from the inside.
Except, Binghe’s cock was pulled out halfway… Does that, does that mean… it can’t be all cum, right? Luo Binghe, what were you doing when your husband was unconscious?
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu swallows, and Luo Binghe’s eyes tracks the movement of his Adam’s apple with a lustful gaze. “How many times did you… climax while I was asleep?”
Binghe bites at his lip, looking somewhat guilty. “Begging shizun’s forgiveness, but I lost count.”
Haha. No fucking shit.
Shen Qingqiu sighs, resigned to his fate of being Binghe’s cumdump.
“Just… clean me out once you’re done?”
“Of course, shizun,” Binghe says, fucking him earnestly while looking not at all like he’ll keep his word.
There’s an ungodly amount of cum all over Shen Qingqiu. He honestly thinks it’s not physically possible for all this cum to be produced from a living being. Then again, with Proud Immortal Demon Way’s hentai logics paired with the fact that Binghe is a heavenly demon, it really shouldn’t be all that surprising.
Luo Binghe has probably fucked every part of his beloved shizun’s body at this point – Shen Qingqiu felt like every place in his body was an erogenous zone at the moment. If Binghe licked his toe, he’d probably cum immediately. Or at least try to. There’s simply no way his body could produce any more fluid. He doesn’t even think he can cry any more. Binghe truly fucked the tears out of him. He’s finished, he’s done, Shen Qingqiu is on the verge of death from Binghe’s monster cock. And from Binghe’s stupid stamina that’s been boosted from flower jizz. And from Binghe’s thick demon cum that has bloated his poor tummy.
Esteemed cultivator dies from dick, now isn’t that a way to go.
And! Binghe! Is still! Hard!
Binghe, can’t you have mercy on this old man’s hips? Or his entire body, for one. Man, he is so sore. Just let him sleep for a little while. Can’t you go jerk off by yourself for a bit?
Shen Qingqiu tells Binghe just that (albeit weakly, his throat hoarse from the screaming), and Binghe has the audacity to tear up at him and go: “But shizun, it feels better when I’m touching you.”
Luo Binghe, you’re really beyond salvation, aren’t you.
“N-not inside.” Shen Qingqiu really wishes he had his fan in his hands, so he could smack Binghe’s pathetic puppy dog look off his face. Then again, he barely had the energy to lift his arms. “Binghe, listen to your husband.”
Yeah, he pulled the husband card, and what about it? Normally he’d be too embarrassed to call Binghe his hubby, but this time he’s in a crisis, okay?! If only to give his ass a little bit of rest…
It’s as if Binghe never shed any tears at all, after hearing that. Immediately his face brightens, a lovely blush upon his cheeks as he looks adoringly at Shen Qingqiu.
“Husband.” Binghe beams at the other, and immediately grabs at his hips and maneuvers him in some way that he likes. Which is onto his side (Binghe please be more gentle, Shen Qingqiu sobs in his mind, this master’s stomach is uncomfortably full of your cum!) and carefully lifts up a thigh littered with bites.
And promptly shoves his dick in between Shen Qingqiu’s thighs.
Oh god. There’s cum leaking everywhere. From his gaping puffy hole and from Binghe’s cock – everything is so wet.
Binghe starts moving, thrusting between his thighs while panting and moaning in Shen Qingqiu’s ear, saying things like “husband feels so good” and “husband’s body is incredible, he was truly made for me.”
It’s really too much, the wet and throbbing cock in between his legs moving under his balls. The normally pleasant friction is almost painful due to overstimulation. Not to mention Binghe’s praise. It’s too much for Shen Qingqiu, he can’t handle this! Binghe, have mercy on this poor old man and his poor heart.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know which is worse, dying from embarrassment or dying from demon dick.
Holy shit. How many days has it been already? It feels like it’s been forever. And how have they not broken the bed?
In the back of his mind, Shen Qingqiu thinks that it’s a good thing both of them don’t have to eat, or else they probably would have starved to death at this point. Seriously, how many days of sex has it been…? He lost count of how many rounds they went after the first ten, and he knows Binghe had fucked into him while he was asleep too.
And when Binghe wanted to sleep, he would use Shen Qingqiu as a cockwarmer. No matter how gross and sweaty the both of them were, Binghe latched onto his husband like a goddamn octopus, arms holding onto Shen Qingqiu tightly as he slept and snored softly.
That’s totally unfair! Binghe, you’re so selfish, using your husband like this.
Shen Qingqiu would rest too, except for the fact he’s uncomfortably full – his stomach pumped full of Binghe’s cum and plugging him up with his monstrous cock that is still goddamn hard .
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t struggle in Binghe’s embrace; he gave up on struggling many, many rounds before. He simply sighs and grimaces at the squelching sound of cum when he accidentally grinds back against Binghe’s crotch.
….Might as well get some rest before Binghe wakes up and fucks him into oblivion again.
Hopefully the next round is the last, and that the sex pollen will be flushed out of Binghe’s body?
Shizun looked so good like this, Luo Binghe thinks, utterly satisfied with himself.
So pliant, so pretty on his cock. He’s been fucked stupid, unable to control the emotions that appear on his beautiful face, those green eyes of his showing nothing but lust.
Oh, how adorable his shizun – no, his husband – is, biting at his already swollen lips as if it would prevent him from moaning out loud. No, none of that, my dear. Binghe looks at his lover adoringly while thrusting into Shen Qingqiu’s warm heat, drawing out tiny punched out “ah, ah, ah”s from him.
Admittedly, the pollen started to lose its effect a while back, around the last couple rounds. But Binghe doesn’t dare tell that to Shen Qingqiu. Not yet, anyways. Maybe after this one round of sex?
He does feel a little bad for his husband. Shen Qingqiu had endured Luo Binghe fucking him for a few days now (almost a week!), and surely if it weren’t for his cultivator body and Binghe’s own demonic blood inside him repairing whatever bruises were left inside, perhaps he’d be suffering a lot more.
Binghe’s own thighs and back are starting to hurt, starting to burn from going at it for so long. It hurts only just a little, though. It’s almost pleasurable, really. (And Shizun did always say he was a masochist.)
It’s fine, Binghe thinks to himself as he pulls Shen Qingqiu’s legs towards him and lifts one over his shoulder. He can handle it, he can keep going.
Luo Binghe isn’t talking about Shen Qingqiu, necessarily. No, his poor shizun is nearly unconscious at this point, making low pitched moaning noises from time to time. He’s so limp, a shaky mess of nerves covered in cum, sweat, and tears.
It’s not the first time during their coupling that Shen Qingqiu has been fucked until he passes out. It’s quite sweet actually, the way Binghe’s beloved husband is unable to speak, throat rasping and muscles momentarily taut before he trembles and loses consciousness. As if he trusts Binghe not to break him, to treasure him while asleep, dead to the world.
Shen Qingqiu is really too extraordinary, he’s always so willing to endure for Binghe. Even with the initial mess (his own fault for not listening!) that resulted with Binghe getting poisoned from a flower, shizun’s first reaction was to make sure Binghe was okay.
His husband is always putting Binghe first – Luo Binghe might just cum from the thought of his shizun’s selflessness and adoration. But not yet, Binghe wants to last a little longer, just a little more.
“One more time, one last time.” Binghe says against his shizun’s red swollen lips, rocking into him while matching Shen Qingqiu’s wet low moans.
Just one more time.