NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain-Chapter 101: Strip

Artis stretched his arms casually, his massive cock still draped across Juliana’s stunned face like it was claiming new territory.

"Is it me, or is this alcohol weak as fuck?"

He asked, as if he wasn’t using his dick as a conversation prop.

Meanwhile, the beast itself wasn’t playing around. Precum started to ooze from the bulbous head, dripping like a leaky faucet and leaving sticky trails on her bewildered expression.

Juliana’s lips parted slightly, whether from shock or instinct, and the glistening tip slid down her cheek, leaving a wet, shameful path until it perched right atop her plump, trembling lips.

"I-It’s not that weak."

Lui stammered, snapping out of his trance. His inner liquor snob kicked in, scrambling to add some coherence to the chaos.

"Alcohols like this... uh... they tend to hit you way later. You know, slow burn, like... like a rich man’s hangover."

He gestured vaguely at the table, trying to seem like he wasn’t riveted by the show in front of him.

"I mean, I’ve seen, uh, a lot of rich guys drink this stuff. It’s, you know, classy shit. Takes time to—uh—kick in. Like... like the end of a good bottle... or whatever."

But his words were lost in the moment, drowned out by the sheer audacity of what was happening.

Artis leaned back slightly, his cock dragging along Juliana’s lips like it had its own agenda. She let out a muffled, "Mmph!" that sounded suspiciously like her trying not to moan.

Lui was trying not to choke on his own saliva.

Artis smirked, still casually chatting with Lui as though his cock wasn’t engaged in a diplomatic mission to conquer Juliana’s lips.

"Is that so? Well, you’d know better than me..."

He said, flexing just enough to make the thick, throbbing head twitch against her trembling mouth.

Juliana, meanwhile, was in hormonal hell. Her rational mind had clocked out, leaving her primal instincts in charge.

The scent of raw masculinity wafted into her nostrils, sparking a wildfire in her chest.

Goddammit, I know this scent.’

She thought, her mouth watering. Memories of tasting him before flashed through her mind like a pornographic slideshow.

And now? That glorious cockhead was resting on her lips, practically begging her to let it in.

Her lips parted slightly—just a crack, like a gateway to sin—and the swollen tip slid inside.

The slit at the head dribbled precum onto her tongue, and her eyes widened as her taste buds exploded.

’Fuck me, it’s delicious.’

Her husband was yammering on about liquor a foot away, blissfully unaware that his wife was slowly suckling another man’s cockhead like it was a gourmet treat.

Juliana’s eyes fluttered shut, her mouth closing around the head as she began to tease it with her tongue.

She swirled, licked, and suckled, savoring every drop of the salty-sweet nectar that dripped from him.

’This is so fucking wrong.’

She thought as her lips tightened, drawing him deeper. But the heat pooling between her legs told a different story.

’So fucking wrong... and so fucking delicious.’

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked harder, trying to coax more of his precum onto her eager tongue. Each drop was better than the last, like her body was wired to crave it.

The proximity to Lui only made it hotter—a twisted thrill coursing through her as she indulged in the forbidden.

"I-It’s not very potent, you need more than a bottle...it will take time."

Artis stretched leisurely, his tone casual as if discussing the weather.

"Yeah, makes sense. Stuff like this is meant to be savored, not chugged like some cheap swill."

He said, flashing a smug grin at Lui.

"Y-yeah…"

Lui stammered, gulping audibly. But let’s be honest—this man wasn’t focused on wine tasting.

His attention kept darting to Juliana, whose lips were still wrapped snugly around the bulbous head of Artis’s cock.

Her eyes were closed, her tongue swirling with the kind of dedication reserved for fine dining.

’What the fuck are you doing, Juliana?’

Lui’s mind screamed.

’And why the fuck am I so into it?’ His internal turmoil was a chaotic blend of jealousy, arousal, and morbid curiosity. He couldn’t stop wondering,

’Is she really going to fit that monster in her mouth? How?’

Meanwhile, Juliana was off in her own world, savoring every inch of Artis like a forbidden delicacy.

She hadn’t even realized she was absentmindedly bobbing her head slightly, coaxing more of the thick shaft past her lips.

Artis glanced down at her with a devilish smirk.

"Anyway…" he began, his tone nonchalant, "let’s get back to the game, yeah?"

Then, as if guided by the gods of absurdity, Artis leaned back for a deep, exaggerated stretch.

His hands clasped behind his head, chest puffed out, and most importantly, his cock sprang upward like a fucking catapult.

Before Juliana could even react, more than half of the monstrous shaft slid into her mouth. Her eyes snapped open, bulging in shock, as her cheeks stretched to their limits.

A muffled "Mmmph!" escaped her, her hands instinctively flying to Artis’s hips to steady herself.

Lui, meanwhile, nearly fell out of his chair. His jaw dropped as he witnessed his wife’s mouth get overtaken by what looked like a damn battering ram.

’Holy shit, is she okay?! Wait... why am I not stopping this?’

Juliana’s absentmindedness had her oblivious to what was coming—until it wasn’t.

It only lasted a moment before he pulled back, his cock slick and gleaming as he sat down on the cushion like some smug bastard king.

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Juliana coughed, her face flushed, eyes watering, and looking very much like she had just lost a round against life itself.

Meanwhile, Lui sat frozen, his jaw practically unhinged. His wide, horrified eyes were glued to the sight of her throat bulging moments ago.

He couldn’t unsee it—the way she gagged, the sound, the sheer fucking audacity of it all.

"Fuck…"

He muttered under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from Juliana, who was still coughing delicately into her hand, trying to recover.

Artis leaned over, his hand sliding onto her thigh with an air of mock concern, his expression oozing fake sympathy.

"You good there, Mommy? Need a little pat on the back?"

He asked, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed his amusement.

"I-I’m fine."

She stammered, coughing one last time, her cheeks glowing redder than a stop sign.

Artis chuckled, low and knowing, as he leaned back, spreading his legs a little wider just to piss Lui off.

"Perfect. Then let’s keep playing."

He reached for the bottle, spinning it like it was the wheel of destiny itself. The three pairs of eyes locked onto its movement, the tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

The bottle slowed, then stopped—pointing squarely at Juliana again, while the flat end remained aimed at Artis like it had a vendetta.

Artis quirked an eyebrow, his lips curving into a sly grin as he looked at her.

"Well, Mommy, truth or dare?"

He asked, his voice silky smooth, but carrying just enough edge to make her gulp.

"Dare."

Juliana said, trying to sound composed but failing miserably as the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.

Artis’s smirk widened like a devil with a new plaything.

"Since you were bold enough to pick dare… how about you return the favor? Undress."

The words hung in the air, and for a split second, Lui looked relieved, even smug, like the tables had finally turned.

But before he could revel in the moment, Juliana casually reached for the bottle of liquor, poured herself a shot, and downed it like a champ.

"Bitch…"

Artis muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head.

Without missing a beat, he spun the bottle again. The three of them watched it whirl, the tension rising, until it stopped—once again pointing directly at Juliana, with the flat end now aiming at Lui.

"Oh, come the fuck on!"

Juliana groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Lui, on the other hand, perked up instantly, his previously defeated expression replaced with gleeful anticipation. He had been waiting for this moment.

"Dare. I choose dare."

She said quickly, cutting off whatever ridiculous idea her husband was clearly brewing.

Lui’s grin spread wide, his drunken confidence kicking into overdrive.

"Strip."

The single word hit like a gong, and both men burst into laughter. The drunken atmosphere was thick with mischief, the tension amplified by the alcohol coursing through their veins.

All three of them were tipsy enough to make decisions they’d regret—or brag about—later. Juliana, emboldened by the alcohol and the sheer absurdity of the night, stood up.

Her robe clung to her curves for a moment, but with every move, her assets jiggled just enough to make both men nearly choke on their spit.

"Well, if that’s what you really want…"

She purred, throwing them a teasing glance as her hands slid behind her. With one swift pull, she untied the knot holding her robe together.