meagan starke

“No silly. You are such a dork sometimes. When you first put your tongue there I winced. I thought it was gross. But since I haven’t been able to get it off my mind.”“I never…” I stammered“Would you shut up? I want you to lick my asshole. Make me cum. If you’re willing.”

After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.

However, the tide of battle began to change. Despite Abner receiving all the damage, Reiss was the one getting tired. No matter how much blood Abner puked up, he kept getting to his feet and charging, while Reiss, after every blast, was breathing harder and harder with a noticeable tremor of fatigue running through his body. Noah decided it was time to end the fight. Once again, Abner, albeit slowly due to all his injuries, hobbled towards Reiss, shouting with resolve. Reiss, scrounging up what little strength he had left, hit Abner with a weak blast, knocking him back only a few feet and kicking up a cloud of dust. Once again, Abner started to get up.