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NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain-Chapter 159: A Date with the Milf (3)
"GGAAAHHHH!!!"
His entire soul left his body. The bitch did it.
She squeezed so hard, he was convinced his dick had just turned into mashed sausage. His balls? Oh, those poor, unfortunate souls. He was pretty sure they just got scrambled.
"B-BITCH!!"
He wheezed, his knees buckling as stars exploded behind his eyes.
From behind him, a low, sinister chuckle filled the air.
That witch. She was enjoying this.
Before he could even turn around and wring her damn neck, Juliana let go—and then? She bolted.
"STAY RIGHT THERE, YOU STUPID BITCH!!"
He growled, doubling over as he clutched his battered pride.
Juliana? Oh, she stopped alright. She stopped just long enough to turn back, smirk like the devil herself, and flip him off with both hands.
Then? She took off running.
That goddamn MILF FROM HELL.
"Stupid bitch! I'll teach her a lesson she'll never forget!"
Artis gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he bent forward, hands on his knees, breathing through the pain.
His balls felt like someone had thrown them in a blender set to "liquefy".
His cock twitched in protest, confused and betrayed. It had known pleasure. It had known excitement. But it had never known war.
He needed a moment. Just a moment.
He squatted. He stretched. He bounced up and down like a boxer trying to hype himself up before a fight. He gently cupped his bruised family jewels, whispering apologies to his unborn children.
And all the while, Juliana ran.
That bitch.
Artis lifted his head just in time to see her disappearing into the distance, her cheeks clapping like a standing ovation.
The way she moved was so damn graceful, confident, taunting, as if she had just dominated him in bed instead of nearly castrating him in a public setting.
Then—she looked back.
A slow, smug, shit-eating grin spread across her lips. Her eyes glittered with pure evil, like she knew—knew—he was pulsating with vengeful horniness and could do absolutely nothing about it.
Oh, she was dead.
He did a final damage assessment.
Sausage: Bruised, but operational.
Eggs: Slightly scrambled, but edible
Dignity: Hanging by a thread.
Yeah. He was ready.
With hellfire in his veins, he took off.
The wind rushed past his ears, his eyes locked on her bouncing silhouette like a predator zoning in on prey. Her clapping cheeks were his personal war drums, urging him forward. Faster. Closer.
Then—the market.
Fuck.
He skidded to a stop just before slamming into a group of old ladies gossiping over which meat vendor had the biggest sausages.
And there she was. Juliana.
Standing in the middle of the bustling market, surrounded by people. Safe.
She turned to face him, her smugness reaching dangerous, MILF levels of toxicity.
Her eyes sparkled with mock innocence as she batted her lashes at him, as if to say,"Oh nooo~ What ever shall you do, big strong man? Too many people watching, huh?"
Oh, she fucking knew.
Artis clenched his fists, his cock throbbing with the need for retribution.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
If she thought she could crush his balls like overripe tomatoes and get away with it, she was dead fucking wrong.
He would make her squirm.
And not in the way she expected.
That was a promise.
...
First things first—food.
After a solid chase scene that left Artis's balls sore and his pride bruised, he needed a victory, and what better way to claim one than a public display of dominance?
He guided Juliana straight to a nearby skewer vendor, one of the busiest in the market, where they were sure to get an audience.
The second Juliana got her hands on the skewer, she attacked it like a starving beast-kin in heat.
She took the whole tip into her mouth—slowly—her lips stretching over the meat, tongue flicking out to taste the juices. Her throat worked as she moaned a little, and every single man within a five-foot radius went stiff.
Literally.
Eyes widened. Mouths dropped. Even the vendor, a grizzled old man who had seen years of debauchery, nearly dropped his entire tray of skewers.
And Juliana? That milfy menace? She just kept going.
She sucked. Slurped. Bit down. Licked the damn stick clean.
And the men?
They were fucking dying.
"Goddamn..."
"Is she even real?
"That skewer... That could have been me..."
Artis, meanwhile, had never been prouder to be a man.
With the smuggest fucking grin, he made damn sure every single man knew who she belonged to.
One arm slung over her shoulder, casually resting against her plush, bouncing chest. His fingers trailing down her back, sometimes sneaking a little lower than necessary.
His other hand? Firmly gripping her hip.
Sometimes he slid lower, just enough to feel the curve of her ass.
And if that wasn't enough flexing, he leaned in close, whispering against her ear as if claiming her soul in front of these horny bastards.
"You eat like that, and you expect me to behave?"
Juliana simply licked the remaining juices off her lips, deliberately slow, before smirking up at him.
"Oh? You jealous of the skewer?"
Artis's cock throbbed at the challenge, but he wasn't the only one feeling something.
The marketplace was seething.
Because the men?
They were livid.
"Wait, isn't that the guy from earlier?"
"The one that made Lily blush like a virgin schoolgirl?"
"That bastard?! He gets her too?!"
"What the fuck is this man?! Why does he get all the hotties?!"
"This isn't fair! I call bullshit!"
The jealousy in the air was so thick you could spread it on toast.
And Artis was fucking thriving.
He had two of the hottest women in one day, and the entire marketplace could do nothing but watch.
With a shit-eating grin, he pulled Juliana even closer, his hand traveling dangerously low, making sure every jealous bastard saw exactly what he had and what they would never, ever get.
And damn, it felt good.
This was a date, not just Juliana, but everybody in the market place will never forget about!