grimm yang

“Uh…sure…Carol.” At that point I wasn’t thinking much of anything, concentrating as her slippery, soapy hand slid along my shaft and she pulled on the skin on my ball sack. Mrs. B.—Carol—got on her knees and came face-to-face with my throbbing dick, pink from the steamy shower. I thought she was going to blow me, but she had another surprise for me.

The moment came, Roc ducking under Ingram’s leg, his speed enhanced with eagle reflexes like in his fight against Beck. He compressed his mana into his fist and punched Ingram in the jaw, jerking his head back. However, the instant he made contact, Roc realized something was wrong. He thought the punch landed, but his fist skidded off Ingram’s face as he twisted his head around 360º like an owl, allowing him to deflect the force from Roc’s attack and send his fist hurtling past him.

He extended his control throughout his body, first adjusting his position in his chair, then, while pouring sweat, he lifted himself up and got to his feet. Just standing up straight and remaining upright was a challenge. Back when he first unlocked his clone ability, he remembered having to reacquaint himself with every muscle required for standing and balance, and those first few steps were like all the times he learned to walk as a baby. All that experience was invaluable. Soon enough, he was circling the room, tweaking the awkwardness out of his movements.