poison street fighter

“Unnnnh!” I moaned happily. It went in much easier than it had the first time, after several days of near-constant practice, but it was still really a stretch for my poor, tiny, tight little teenage pussy! I tried to maintain eye contact with Mom as it was happening, but I just couldn't help them fluttering closed. I pushed myself back a bit, getting myself to the height I knew Daddy liked best and making my cute little ass really pop for him, then leaned down to rest my head between Mom's big, soft D-cup titties.“Babe?” Mom asked tremulously, her voice weak and thready.

After the third round of fights, the tournament was suspended until the next day, and everyone returned home. Sitting at the desk in Valon’s room, Noah was busy replicating the headband he got from Saimallah. He had already used alchemy to create an exact replica, including the engraved runes, and was now applying a suitable ink. As he worked, he scrutinized the formula repeatedly, making sure it did what it was supposed to. For all he knew, putting it on could brand him with a curse. In his long years across the multiverse, he had learned to always look a gift horse in the mouth. Reading the formula was like reading a contract, and he had to be wary of fine print.

Some time later—perhaps ten or twenty minutes, though I had no way to know for sure—a door opened in the wall I could see through my thighs. I hadn't even realized there was a door, until then.