arm behind head

AI art "Rise Beach Time"

8

Rise Beach Time

AI art "Ochaco Playmate"

9

Ochaco Playmate

AI art "Ideas for a new character?"

Ideas for a new character?

AI art "2000 ?!?! 🤯😳"

30

2000 ?!?! 🤯😳

AI art 'Magazine cover: Naomi' with user description 'The sun is rising ☀️'

8

Magazine cover: Naomi

AI art 'Fishnet test'

13

Fishnet test

AI art

30

Tanpa Judul

AI art 'Marin Pool'

8

Marin Pool

blackhairedstudent

AI art "Yuiko"

21

Yuiko

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)"

21

Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)

AI art 'Pillow Princesses 3 (Poke Girls)' with user description 'Gotta catch 'em all?'

25

Pillow Princesses 3 (Poke Girls)

AI art "Native Beauty"

8

Native Beauty

AI art "Lara"s rest"

11

Lara"s rest

AI art "Evangelion Magazine Trend - Mary"

13

Evangelion Magazine Trend - Mary

AI art 'Magazine Cover: Vesper' with user description 'Octavian came with this idea and his pics are amazing! Honestly one of the best ideas I've seen in Betterwaifu.

I couldn't resist and I wanted to make my own girls as a magazine cover. The idea was to do the same as Octavian and post one image per girl but the results where.... Honestly? Ones of my favorites.

So, now I'm planning to jump to the trend with an specific post for each girl. Also I want to do this as a celebration for the 1000 followers.

Hope you enjoy Vesper! Your goth queen.

And again thanks for the support!'

4

Magazine Cover: Vesper

AI art "Aboriginal Ears"

7

Aboriginal Ears

AI art "Some spider's test"

17

Some spider's test

AI art "Cindy Aurum: Oil Change"

15

Cindy Aurum: Oil Change

AI art "Ideas for a new character?"

9

Ideas for a new character?

AI art 'Marin Gangbang' with user description 'The heavy cardboard box sat in the center of the cramped apartment, labeled with bright "FRAGILE" tape that felt like a cruel irony. Inside, Marin Kitagawa was folded into a compact, agonizing ball. Her wrists were bound to her ankles with thick, industrial-grade zip ties, and a silk scarf was knotted tightly around her mouth, muffling her indignant huffs. The sound of a box cutter slicing through the tape made her heart thud once—not out of fear, but out of sheer, mounting irritation. As the flaps were pulled back, the harsh fluorescent light blinded her. Twelve pairs of eyes peered down into the box, staring at the "package" they had collectively purchased.
"Finally," one of them whispered, reaching in to hoist her out. Marin was dumped unceremoniously onto the stained carpet, still bound in that humiliating crouch. As the leader reached down to untie the gag, Marin didn't sob or plead. The second her mouth was free, she glared with enough heat to melt lead. "Are you serious right now? Three hours! I was in that box for three hours! Do you have any idea how much my legs cramp? My makeup is probably a total disaster. This is the most low-budget, 'edgy' entrance I’ve ever had to make. Cut these off. Now. If I get a circulation bruise on my ankles, I’m doubling the fee!"
One of the fans hurried forward with scissors, trembling as he snipped the ties. Marin immediately sprawled out on the rug, rubbing her wrists. She was completely naked under the "packaging," but she carried herself with the air of a queen inconvenienced by peasants. "Okay, look," she said, pointing a finger. "I’m sore, I’m annoyed, and I’m covered in cardboard dust. Let’s get this moving. I want to be in a hot bath before the sun comes up. Who’s the first genius who thinks he can handle the 'merchandise'?"
The small, dimly lit office smelled of stale coffee and desperation. These twelve men were exactly as she had feared: a collection of unwashed hoodies and eyes that held a disturbingly possessive glint. They had pooled their life savings to "rent" their favorite idol, and the contract she had signed in a moment of financial desperation was iron-clad. For the next several hours, the apartment became a theater of organized chaos. Marin remained a statue of pouting frustration. As the first three men approached, she didn't even bother to change her expression. One took her mouth, another guided himself into her pussy, and a third—the one with the shaky hands—claimed her anal passage.
The triple intrusion was a sudden, heavy weight, but Marin just stared at a water stain on the ceiling. She was annoyed by the lack of rhythm and the sheer, staggering girth of men who clearly spent more time on message boards than in gyms. "Ugh, you’re hitting my hip bone," she muffled around the first man’s member, her eyes tracking a spider near the baseboard. "Adjust your angle or something. Honestly, do you guys even know how anatomy works? It’s like you’ve only ever seen a human woman in a low-res JPG."
The men were relentless, driven by a primal need to finally possess the girl they had only ever seen on a screen. They rotated with a mechanical greed, sometimes four or five of them crowding around her at once, their hands roaming over her skin in a desperate attempt to memorize the texture of their idol. Marin felt the heat, the sweat, and the overwhelming scent of cheap cologne and desperation. "You're breathing too loud," she told the man currently hammering into her pussy, her tone as casual as if she were complaining about the weather. "It’s super distracting. And you," she pointed at the man waiting for her ass, "stop making that weird whimpering sound. It’s totally killing the vibe."
Despite her constant critiques, the men seemed even more energized. Her annoyance acted as a catalyst, a reminder that they were interacting with the real, unfiltered Marin Kitagawa. They pushed her into various positions—over the back of the sofa, against the wall, on the grimy carpet—using her three orifices with a frantic, uncoordinated energy. By the third hour, Marin was coated in a sheen of sweat and the evidence of their collective release. Her golden hair was messy, clinging to her damp shoulders.
"Seriously?" she groaned, wiping a stray drop from her cheek. "I’m going to need like, ten showers to get the smell of 'basement' off me. You guys are the absolute worst." The men, now mostly exhausted, looked at her with awe. They had used her in every way possible, filled her to the point of overflowing, and yet she still sat there, looking down at them with that same look of being completely unimpressed.
"Is that it?" Marin asked, standing up and stretching. She felt the heavy, lingering stretch in her core, the physical proof of twelve men’s greed, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. "Because I'm done. I'm going home, I'm ordering a massive pile of karaage, and I'm pretending this night never happened. Secretly she came 5 times.'

30

Marin Gangbang

blackhairedstudent

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