wollip

I started gently rolling my hips, proving my words. She was still stubbornly refusing, mouth tightly closed as I painted her face with my cream. But as Daddy snuggled up behind me and started playing with my titties again, staring encouragingly down into her eyes over my shoulder, she finally started playing ball. She was still tentative, just a tiny, testing little lick of her tongue darting out between her lips, but I rewarded her with a happy little moan and stopped grinding myself on her face. The tongue came out again, and again, and the more I responded to her the more confident she became. I still wasn't ready to let her out of her restraints yet, even once she started eating me for real, but I was definitely enjoying myself, clenching my muscles to try to squeeze out as much of Daddy's cum as I could. That was the one and only problem with Daddy having such a big cock; he always deposited it way far up in there, and trying to get it out again was just about impossible before it was ready to leak out on its own! Still I was doing what I could, and Mommy seemed like she had finally gotten out of her own way enough that she was able to enjoy the taste. She wasn't half bad at it, either. Not as good as Daddy was, judging from the few times he'd chosen to use his mouth on me rather than his cock. But still, not bad, and I was gradually drawing closer to the edge. It hit me more gently than the ones Daddy had given me, but it was no less enjoyable, making me gasp and twitch as I relaxed back against his chest.

Slowly, and with no shortage of effort, he began to pry off his clone, separating centimeter by centimeter. Sitting on the floor, he resembled an animal shedding its skin. Eventually, he and his clone split like dividing cells, but the seal was trying to pull them back together. Moving his clone forward felt like trying to swim upriver, and it was taking everything he had not to be pushed back, let alone advance further. However, he felt himself closing in on something, a sensation, or perhaps it could be called a state of mind. Whatever it was, it seemed to help him project his mana. If he could make this state of awareness easier to access, then his magic would surely grow much more powerful.

Roc struggled against Ingram, but desperation made the man’s grip as solid as steel shackles. With all three limbs and one of his wings locked in Ingram’s grip, he could do nothing to fight back. He couldn’t even save himself when Ingram finally let go. Was this it? Was he going to lose? Was he going to die? If he just had his arm, he could win, but without it, this was the end. Plummeting towards the ground, he glanced at the useless remains of the appendage. If he at least had his elbow, he could have affixed a wooden hand or a blade, something to help even him out, but he was just left with a useless stump, like a clipped wing.“Damn you, Noah,” he hissed.