mons venus

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

I hung up the phone and watched Carol lick and suck the length of my shaft. “I hope that taco is warm because I’m starving.” Carol released my cock and slid back on the bed, spreading her legs. I climbed on the bed and put my head between her legs. She smelled amazing.

He was then silenced as Thera wrapped her whips around his head and formed a liquid sphere, not to hold or wound him, but to drown him. Cain clawed at the bubble but was unable to break it. Realizing his only option, he sprinted towards Thera. She dodged and ducked away from his grabbing hands, relying on her agility, but Cain was more dexterous than he looked. He finally managed to grab one of her arms and then her leg and hoisted her high above his head. Mana surged from the tip of his horn, popping the bubble and letting his furious roar echo across the arena, telling the audience that this fight would end just like the others.