kebby94

“Thanks, Mom!” I purred, kissing her on her lips. She tried to resist, but only for a second or two before she gave in and started kissing me back. It felt so different, kissing her instead of Daddy! She was softer, more gentle. I liked it... maybe not quite as much as I did Daddy's more forceful style, but still, it felt really good! I kinda regretted it, actually, when I had to pull away, but she deserved to be taken care of, too. I detoured to her breasts on the way down, sucking hungrily on her thick, erect nipples, making her gasp. She moaned, arching her back and running her fingers through my hair, pulling me tighter into her soft, yielding flesh. I couldn't help but giggle at her reaction, and to give her a few teasing little nibbles as well. I wondered, with her titties and nipples both being so much bigger than mine, if that meant they were more sensitive as well? It wasn't something I could directly test, but it sure seemed that way. Then I moved down again, and though her eyes were wide and she was nervously biting her lip, she opened her thighs eagerly enough. I made myself go slow, teasing and exploring, savouring my first ever experience with a pussy other than my own. She tasted good, just like I did, only maybe a little more concentrated and strong. That was probably just because I could only taste myself on my fingers or Daddy's cock, I figured, never directly from the source. I started getting more into it, kissing and sucking, flicking and playing with her lips with the tip of my tongue. She was quite a bit meatier than I was, which I kinda liked; it meant I could really pull and nibble on them, which she really seemed to love.

The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.