kwazii

“Really? You sure?” Her asshole had spread but gripped my two fingers tightly. I didn’t know if another finger would even fit. Carol just nodded, her eyes closed again. Her beautiful red hair cascaded across the island. Her pale skin against the dark granite was lovely. I pulled my fingers out part way and straightened out my ring finger. Forming a triangle with my fingertips, I pushed against her anus again. Already relaxed, her sphincter accepted my third finger with ease. I pushed my fingers in and out, but only to the first knuckle. I thought it might be too thick to push all the way inside. Carol disagreed.

“For me too, baby!” he agreed, though it wasn't immediately clear to me if it was just that he'd thought it had been perfect, or if he meant it had been something he'd always wanted, too. I'd have to remember to ask him about that later, sometime Mom wasn't around.

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.