hannah royal

“Everything alright, kiddo?” her dad asked softly, walking over and putting a comforting hand on her back.Sarah made a panicked noise, which she managed to turn into a tired groan. “Mmrrr… I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Right here.” Carol knelt on the sofa, elbows on the back of the cushion. She bent lower, pushing her ass towards me. “Keep the oil in reach in case we need more.” If she was worried about oil stains on her leather couch, she didn’t show it. She laid her head on the back of the sofa and spread her ass with both hands. Her asshole, now pink from the stretching, was beautiful. “Fuck me.” I stepped up behind her, cock in hand and laid the head against her anus. I started to push. Her asshole was tight, but began to spread against the pressure.

“Don’t you lecture me. You’re just fighting so that people will like you. You’re so desperate for their approval, yet have the nerve to call me spiteful. My path as a warrior doesn’t lead to acknowledgment or people carrying me on their shoulders. I don’t fight in life because I want to be idolized. I fight to understand myself, to know my limits, to know what I’m capable of, and to go even farther. The challenges I’ve overcome, the setbacks I’ve endured, the boundaries I’ve surpassed! Those are what define me as a man, as a warrior! I walk this path because life is most valuable when you have to fight for it!”