water bottle douche

“I was the one who gave her the bottle, though technically, I was just acting as the courier. She was after a special potion and accidentally received that venom instead.”“Then you know it’s her—our—fault that Bella went on her rampage.”“You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

Carol hiked herself up on one ass cheek and rubbed an oily finger around her anus, depositing a bit of oil in her anal canal. She hopped off the island, grabbed my hand and the olive oil and headed for the living room. “It will be more comfortable in here. My knees are sore.” She set the oil on the coffee table and kissed me again, stroking my dick vigorously as she did. “We don’t have to do this. You can say no.”

Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.