dora márquez

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.

“Oh, take it you little whore!” she squealed, her hips jerking powerfully against my ass, the hot, molten flood of her seed making me gasp as I felt it shooting deeply up my ass! “Take it! Take my fucking cum!” Wave after wave she gave it to me, her huge, amazing cock pulsing and throbbing in time with the unbelievable pounding of her hips. Then suddenly she stopped, almost as if somebody had thrown her switch, buried to the hilt but completely immobile. She stayed there for a long, slow moment, eyes closed in rapture, barely even twitching but utterly lost to the ecstasy of her release. She pulled out slowly, leaving me strangely empty and wanting, supporting herself with her hand on my stomach as she tottered unsteadily around to my side in her heels. She bent low over top of me, her huge, amazing tits pressing warm and heavy against my chest.

“Die under your own terms, maybe, but I will not let you slip into oblivion easily. There are so many wonderful, horrible things I can do to make you spill those secrets, to make you bargain for a quick death. You’ll try to maintain your dignity as long as you can. I have no doubt that you’ll put up a valiant effort; you are quite strong, after all. However, you will inevitably break and curse your own stubbornness for not talking sooner.”