scandinavian traffic cone

Getting to her feet, covered in dirt and sweat, Thera cracked her whips and wrapped them around Cain’s neck and wrist, then pulled. The surface of the water, solid and smooth like polished stone, became rough and sharp like a cheese grater, and as she pulled, it ripped across Cain’s skin. All of her previous opponents had suffered this fate. At best, they received epidermal abrasions similar to a bicycle accident, and at worst, their flesh was peeled off like an orange. However, Cain laughed and snapped the liquid coils. His flesh had been scoured, but it just barely. It wasn’t just the muscles and horn of a rhino; he also had their tough skin.

I was on my knees when I slid two fingers into Carol’s pussy. I watched her face as I found that spot and rubbed gently. Carol moved her hips slightly and ground against my fingers. I slipped my thumb between her labia and started rubbing her clit. I wanted to watch her face when she came, the way she watches my face when she makes me spew my load down her throat. She wasn’t having it. She reached between her legs, pushed my thumb away and spread her pussy lips.

“Awww…fuuuccckkkk! Geeeezzzzuuuus fuck!” Carol’s body convulsed in pleasure as her hips ground onto my tongue and finger. “Yeah! Yeah! God! Oh God! Yeah! Fuck!” She dropped down onto her elbows as the waves of pleasure subsided. Goosebumps rose on her muscular ass. “That was fantastic. Do it some more. Please.” I put my fingers on either side of her asshole and pulled, trying to open her hole a bit for my tongue. I wiggled my tongue a bit into the tiny opening. Her sphincter and ass cheeks tightened reflexively at the attempted violation. Carol giggled with delight. “That feels so good. Weird. But so good.”