jenny wakeman

Abner charged towards Reiss, and this time, Noah kept his distance. Assuming a combat stance, Reiss punched the open space, releasing a powerful shockwave from his fist. It was wind magic, solidifying the air with mana so that it hit Abner like a charging bull. He was knocked off his feet, flipping like a coin before taking a hard landing. After a blow like that, it was understandable that he had difficulties getting up.

“Good boy, Brucie! Good boy!” I encouraged him, ruffling his neck. “Mommy's turn this time!” And with a tongue-lolling doggie grin, he finally made his move, jumping up onto Mom's back and starting to thrust himself at her. She gasped in some combination of surprise, doubt, and fear, and I took her hand in mine, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Try to get a little lower, if you can,” I advised her. “If you let him get all four paws on the ground he'll be way less likely to scratch you with his claws. It'll feel better, too, if you give him more leverage for thrusting.” She did as I said, lowering her hips and pressing those huge, hanging tits firmly into the carpet, her eyes clenched closed as she waited for it to happen. Bruce was having a little trouble finding his mark, as he always did, so I reached in under her with my other hand and spread her thick, meaty lips with my fingers. That got it done, her eyes popping wide as that hot doggie cock finally slid inside. His claws scratched at the carpet as he tried to reposition himself, giving himself one more deep, forceful drive into her depths.

Her hair was done up to approximately resemble how she looked before it was tied away to make room for electrodes and surgically implanted cable ports, but the effort didn't do much to make her seem more normal. An impossible task, when she was erect at a 90 degree angle and beaming a thousand-yard stare. Eventually the photographer even gave up wiping the drool.