alice angel bendy and the ink machine

The next morning, Valia stood in the garden behind her home, overgrown after a year of neglect, but still beautiful. She held her sword out in front of her, breathing deeply. Step by step, she underwent the Dance of the Ivunara, an elvish custom performed before battle, as well as for exercise. It was a war dance to ease the body’s mana flow and loosen the muscles. Each day was easier, and she felt like she almost back to her old self.

“Let me rest a minute. Put some more oil on that thing.” I poured the olive oil in the crack of her ass and watched it run down to where my dick was penetrating Carol’s asshole. I massaged it around my shaft. For the next ten years, I got a huge boner every time I cooked with olive oil. I started sliding back and forth and inch or so, working some of the oil into her anal canal. My cock began to slide easier.

Edging a bit at a time, she moved as slowly as she dared, her pussy spasming and forcing her to stop an inch at a time. Sweat dripped off her face onto her father’s chest while her juices dripped down and soaked his bush. Finally, she had only his fat cockhead inside her while she squatted above him ready to make her dismount. But she was also at her limit, and she was unsure how much more teasing her poor pussy could take. Not wanting to risk it another moment, Sarah pushed against the bed with her heels and came up into a standing position over her dad. His cock popped out with a wet slurp as it flipped back to his stomach, and it tipped Sarah over the edge.