porcelainmaid

She checked her phone and saw the date. Oh crap. She’d completely lost track of the day of the week with how zoned out she was yesterday. With the stress of getting to school gone, she now was feeling a different concern, mainly that fat load she had drained from her father’s balls last night and how he was standing in front of her. She quickly covered her mouth realising she had yet to wipe the dried drool and cum that was covering her lips and chin. Doing her best to mask the motion as a yawn, she sleepily replied.

“That’s funny, considering you look kind of like his wanted posters,” the bounty hunter replied, showing a flier with a sketch of Noah in his hat and coat.Noah, who had taken a seat at the bar and lit a gonlief cigarette, huffed in faux annoyance. “Insult to motherfucking injury. He stole my wife and my look, and now I got little shitheads mistaking me for the guy I plan on skinning alive.”“And who are you?”

Roc had the advantage of experience against this style, but his missing arm proved a debilitating handicap. In one regard, it made dodging easier, as he had less mass to move out of the way of Ingram’s attacks, and he couldn’t be slowed down with painful flesh wounds to the missing limb, but it also left his offense and defense on his right side almost nonexistent. Depending on who he was fighting and what type of combatant they were, the severity of such a handicap was variable, but against such a similar warrior, his disadvantage was increasingly evident with each passing second. Back and forth, over and over, they hurled attacks at each other and then pulled back, using their wings to move in and out of each other’s reach.