licking penis

AI art "From mermaid to maid."
20

From mermaid to maid.

zuzul
AI art 'Vesper & Nana-cha: No Limits' with user description 'For Vesper and Nana-cha, intimacy is a team sport. There’s no room for hesitation when Vesper and Nana-cha decide to lose control. What started as a private spark between them quickly turned into a wildfire that consumed the entire room. ​This set captures their raw, unfiltered hunger. It’s an intimate look at how their bond becomes the center of a wild, crowded encounter. They aren't just participants; they are the ones driving the energy, feeding off each other’s heat while surrounded by a group that can barely keep up. No judgments, no rules—just two friends pushing every boundary and taking exactly what they want.'
6

Vesper & Nana-cha: No Limits

cef_ultra
AI art '1000 Followers Special' with user description 'Thanks guys ❤️ here is one of favourites (and best work) so far. I would apreciate if you like and comment what was you favourite photo.. it cost at least 250 credits to make 😞 (because of the feet one) Well, enjoy have a nice fap The art room was bathed in the warm, orange glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the easels and scattered sketches. Naoto, or "Senpai" as he was perpetually known, had stepped out to clear some space in the storage closet, leaving Nagatoro and the visiting Marin Kitagawa alone. Marin had stopped by to consult on a potential cosplay project, but the conversation had quickly shifted as Nagatoro observed the way the blonde girl’s eyes lingered on Senpai’s back whenever he moved. "You’re totally staring, Kitagawa-san," Nagatoro teased, her signature mischievous grin stretching across her face as she leaned against a desk. Marin jumped, her face turning a shade of pink that rivaled the sunset. "W-What? No, I was just looking at the... the perspective in his drawing! It’s really impressive!" Nagatoro let out a sharp, feline cackle. "Liar! You’ve been thirsty for my gross Senpai since you walked in. It’s written all over your face." She walked closer, her eyes narrowing with a playful, predatory glint. "But I don't blame you. He’s surprisingly... capable, once you get past all the stammering." Marin fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, her heart racing. "Is it that obvious? He’s just so dedicated to his craft, and he’s actually really kind. I didn't think you’d be so open about it, Nagatoro-san." "Well, I’m the only one allowed to bully him," Nagatoro said, her tone shifting slightly. She stepped into Marin’s personal space, lowering her voice. "But honestly? He’s been working so hard lately. I think he needs a real reward. Something that’ll blow that shy little mind of his. And I’ve been thinking... I wouldn't mind sharing the fun if it’s with someone who actually appreciates him." Marin’s eyes widened, her breath catching. "Sharing? You mean... a threesome? With Senpai?" "Why not?" Nagatoro shrugged, though her blush was starting to match Marin’s. "Think about it. Two girls like us, giving him the best experience of his life. He’d probably faint from the shock, but once he gets going, he’s a lot more intense than he looks. Don't tell me you haven't imagined it." Marin’s mind raced. She thought about Naoto’s steady hands, his quiet intensity, and the way he looked when he was focused. The idea of being with him, guided by Nagatoro’s fearless energy, sent a jolt of heat through her. "I... I have. But I didn't want to overstep. He’s your Senpai." "He is," Nagatoro whispered, leaning in to Marin’s ear. "Which is why I’m inviting you. It’ll be a masterpiece, Kitagawa. Much better than any cosplay photo. We can show him exactly how much we like him. Together." The door creaked open, and Naoto walked back in, wiping dust from his hands. "Okay, I cleared out the—" He stopped mid-sentence, sensing the heavy, electric atmosphere in the room. Both girls were staring at him, their faces flushed and their eyes bright with a shared, secret intent. "Senpai~" Nagatoro chirped, walking over and grabbing his arm. "Kitagawa-san and I were just discussing a new art project. A live study. And we decided we need you as the center of it." Before Naoto could protest, Marin stepped forward, her initial hesitation replaced by a bold, nervous excitement. "She’s right, Senpai. I really want to... participate. If that’s okay with you?" The confusion on Naoto’s face didn't last long as the girls began to lead him toward the large lounge chair in the corner of the room. The transition from teasing to reality was seamless. Nagatoro took the lead, her hands moving with a possessive confidence, while Marin followed, her touch gentle but eager. The art room became a sanctuary of shared heat. They shared Senpai’s cock with a frantic, coordinated hunger, Nagatoro’s experienced playfulness perfectly complementing Marin’s genuine, overflowing passion. Naoto was overwhelmed, his senses pushed to their absolute limit as he was worshipped by both girls. The evening turned into a blur of tangled limbs and whispered praise, a masterpiece of intimacy that left all three of them breathless and utterly satisfied in the fading light.'
30

1000 Followers Special

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Anal is so romantic"
4

Anal is so romantic

cef_ultra
AI art 'selfie'
4

selfie

jlixard
AI art 'Frieren has 1000 years of experience' with user description 'I see so many good close-up for @blackhairedstudent that i had to try one too. STILL DON'T KNOW HOW YOU PLAY WITH LIGHTING LIKE THAT but it's fine i kinda enjoy the results, especially this first shot Enjoy guys'
12

Frieren has 1000 years of experience

herlin
AI art "Poolside peachy girl"
14

Poolside peachy girl

parda
AI art 'Futaba Ganbang ❤️' with user description 'The air in the cramped, windowless studio was stagnant, smelling of ozone, thermal paste, and the sweat of fifty men. Futaba Sakura sat at the center of the room, the only source of light being the eerie, flickering glow of massive server monitors. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was Oracle, the undefeated queen of the digital realm, the best in the world. But a high-stakes bet in a game she usually dominated had gone catastrophically wrong. A glitch, a lag spike, or perhaps a moment of overconfidence had led to her first-ever defeat. The boy she had played against—a high-ranking rival—had smirked when the "Game Over" screen flashed. He told her the price was a session with "him and some friends." Futaba had expected maybe five or six people. But when she arrived at the coordinated location, her heart stopped. It wasn't just a few friends; it seemed like the entire upper echelon of the game’s server was there, fifty men who had spent years losing to her, all waiting to claim their prize. As the massive metal door hissed shut, the shadows at the edge of the room moved. Futaba felt a surge of genuine terror. She was tiny compared to the crowd, her delicate frame highlighted by the blue and green data streams scrolling across her pale skin. But as the first hands touched her, the terror began to mutate into something far more volatile. The session was a descent into total sensory overload. With only the monitors to illuminate the room, the encounters were sharp flashes of skin and motion. She was handled with a rough, clinical efficiency, her body becoming a playground for the massive group. She was turned, lifted, and used in every way imaginable—doubly and triply penetrated as the men rotated with relentless, competitive stamina. The digital glow reflected off the slickness of her skin, marking her as the ultimate loot drop. The most intense part of the ordeal was the constant, rhythmic deepthroating. As she was being used from behind and below, a revolving line of men took turns forcing themselves into her mouth. They showed no mercy, pushing deep into her throat, past the point of comfort. Futaba’s eyes blew wide, tears streaming down her face and dripping onto the glowing keyboards below. She let out muffled, wet cries of desperation. To any observer, the tears looked like pure agony, but internally, Futaba was drowning in a sea of forbidden euphoria. She cried because she was struggling to breathe; the thick, invasive presence in her throat made every lungful of air a desperate battle. That sensation—the feeling of being completely overwhelmed and physically silenced—sent her nervous system into a localized meltdown. The lack of oxygen combined with the relentless physical friction triggered a feedback loop of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She came several times, her body arching and shivering in the dim light, her internal muscles clenching desperately around whoever was inside her at the moment. Each time she felt her breath being cut off by a deep thrust, another wave of white-hot climax shattered through her. She had spent her life controlling every variable in a virtual world, but being reduced to a gasping, used object in the real one was giving her a high she couldn't find in any code. Hours bled into a single, exhausting blur of heat and neon light. By the time the monitors finally went black and the sound of heavy breathing filled the silence, Futaba was a wreck. She lay sprawled across the desk, her skin mapped with red marks and her hair matted with sweat. The fifty men began to retreat into the shadows, leaving her in the quiet hum of the cooling servers. Futaba took a long, shuddering breath, her throat feeling raw and her body heavy with the remnants of her multiple peaks. She looked up at the boy who had won the bet, her eyes still hazy and unfocused. The desperation hadn't fully left her system; instead, it had evolved into a new, darker hunger for the "lag" she had just experienced. She reached out with a trembling hand, grabbing the boy's sleeve as he turned to lead the group out. Her voice was a mere rasp, a broken whisper from the hours of being gagged and used. "Wait," she croaked, her fingers tightening on the fabric. She didn't complain about the numbers or the intensity. Instead, she looked at the dark room where the men were still lingering. "Next month... let's play again. Same stakes. I want to see if I can handle the whole server for even longer next time." The boy stared at her, stunned by the sheer deviancy in her gaze. Futaba simply slumped back against the monitors, a small, dark smirk playing on her lips as she planned her next "session" in the glow of the dying light.'
30

Futaba Ganbang ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Ann Gangbang ❤️'
30

Ann Gangbang ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'C.C loves Pizza'
22

C.C loves Pizza

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Fern Gangbang"
24

Fern Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Beyond Journey's End Part 1' with user description 'The Archive of Perpetual Calibration: A Journey through the Lens ​The sunlight is fading, casting long, dramatic shadows over the riverbank as we sit among the smooth stones. Fern and I are huddled together, swiping through the seventeen captures on the traveler’s device. Beside us, a small basket of mountain berries and sliced melons sits partially eaten—a sweet, crisp contrast to the heavy, magical atmosphere of the day. ​The Negotiation: A Contract of Light and Time ​Frieren: "It began with a simple curiosity, Fern. The traveler approached us with that obsidian slab he called a 'Smartphone.' He claimed it didn't just capture images, but could archive the 'essence of history' to unlock a time-playback feature. To see the Hero Party again... I knew I had to have it. But his price was specific: he needed us to be his exclusive models to calibrate the device’s sensors. It was a logical trade—my history for our presence." ​Fern: "I was horrified, Mistress. A stranger asking us to pose for a 'miracle' sounded like a common scam. I called him a pervert—multiple times. But you looked at me with that calm, ancient resolve and said, 'Fern, clothes are temporary, but a record of the past is eternal.' You were so stubborn that I eventually folded. I traded my dignity for your nostalgia, much like a tart berry trades its skin for the sweetness inside." ​The Sequence of Initial Exposure ​Frieren: "In Photos 1 through 4, we established the baseline. You were so stiff, Fern, clutching your staff as if the lens was a physical threat. I remember the berries we ate then were a bit underripe, matching your prickly mood." ​Fern: "By Photo 5, you were standing there completely bare, treating the removal of your clothes like a boring lecture on mana-circuits. But then came my turn... and something strange happened. When I finally let my garments fall and felt the mountain breeze on my skin, I didn't just feel exposed—I felt a strange sense of liberation. When I looked at the lens and smiled for the first time, it wasn't for the traveler. It was because, for a moment, I felt as light as a dandelion seed. I looked like a woman of a new era, ripening like a summer peach." ​Frieren: "By Photo 6, our first dual-calibration, I realized the 'logic' of the box was absolute. Modesty was simply noise that the sensors needed to filter out." ​The Deepening Interaction ​Frieren: "The transition to 'Dynamic Interaction' in Photos 7 and 9 was where the true sync began. Our first shared kiss was a perfect way to equalize mana pressure. It tasted of mountain air and the faint sweetness of that melon we shared." ​Fern: "My face was the color of a ripe pomegranate. But then we reached Photo 10... the '69' position. It was a recursive loop of consumption. I learned more about the 'flavor' of your ancient mana in those minutes than in years of travel. I believe that was the first time the intensity forced me to reach a peak—a visceral 'release' archived in high definition." ​The Traveler’s Direct Influx ​Frieren: "In Photos 12 and 13, we provided 'Paizuru' data. It was fascinating to see the sensors react to our combined forms against the traveler’s stimulus tool. I found the oral calibration in Photo 14 particularly dense. My first peak occurred there; the sensory input was as potent and sharp as a burst of citrus." ​Fern: "Photos 15 and 16 were the 'Internal Saturation.' While the traveler entered me to map my 'Potential,' you were there, Mistress, grounding me with your tongue. That was my second and third peak in rapid succession. To be filled by him while being tasted by you... it’s a wonder I didn't bruise like a soft plum." ​The Final Count & Observation ​Frieren: "In total, I reached two peaks of mana-saturation, and you, Fern, reached four. My style is 'Ancient Indifference'—I can maintain focus even while shaking. You, however, have a style of 'Violent Surrender.' You pouted for ten photos and then became the most dedicated vessel I've ever seen." ​Fern: "You are a 'Stupid Frieren' for making me do this. You’d probably think about a pancake-flipping spell in the middle of a hurricane. But... the data is perfect. The sky is turning a bruised orange now." ​The Coming Storm ​As we reach Photo 17, the light is dying. The sweet fruit is gone. Nine new shadows are lengthening across the riverbank—the next phase of the mass calibration. ​The first part of the archive is locked.'
19

Beyond Journey's End Part 1

mrjack36
AI art 'Fun at school' with user description 'Marin Kitagawa and Yukino Yukinoshita participating in some extracurricular work.'
19

Fun at school

iiyama6122
AI art "1000! Perrin is Horny to Celebrate~"
30

1000! Perrin is Horny to Celebrate~

onlyyouprod
AI art 'Kirigiri Casting' with user description 'The evening air at the secluded beach was heavy with the scent of salt and the rhythmic crashing of the tide against the jagged rocks. Kyoko Kirigiri, the Ultimate Detective, stood on the cooling sand, her signature lavender hair caught in the breeze. She had traded her high-collared jacket for a simple, translucent wrap, though she still wore her black studded gloves—a final barrier of mystery she wasn't yet ready to shed. The Casting Transcript: Kyoko Kirigiri (The Ultimate Detective) 1. Identity: Name, age, and job? "Kyoko Kirigiri. I am 18 years old. As for my job... I solve mysteries. I look for the truth beneath the lies, no matter how uncomfortable that truth might be." 2. Dreams: What do you want for your future? "To find the answers that were stolen from me. To live a life where I don't have to be afraid of my own vulnerabilities. I want to know what it feels like to lose control without losing myself." 3. Hobbies: Games, movies, and anime you love? "I enjoy logic puzzles and Sudoku. For movies, I prefer noir classics like The Maltese Falcon or modern psychological thrillers like Se7en. As for anime, Monster is a masterpiece of human depravity and redemption. It keeps my mind sharp." 4. Favorites: Who are your favorite characters? "I admire Sherlock Holmes for his dedication to the truth. I also find C.C. from Code Geass intriguing—her immortality and detachment resonate with me in ways I’m still investigating." 5. Motivation: Why do you want to do this? What do you expect? "Investigation requires data. I have spent my life observing human nature from the outside. I want to experience the most extreme physical sensations possible—to see if my logic can survive a total sensory override. I expect a physical challenge that leaves no room for deduction." 6. Drive: Scale of 1-10, how much do you like sex? "A 9. While I appear cold, the heat of an intense physical encounter is the only thing that truly quiets the noise in my head. It is a logical necessity for my well-being." 7. Safety: What is your "Safe Word"? "'EVIDENCE.' If I say that, the investigation is closed and you must withdraw immediately." 8. Technical: Okay with being filmed in high-def? "The camera does not lie. Capture everything in 8K. I want to review the footage later to see the exact moment my composure breaks." 9. The Agreement: Describe the scene? "A moonlit beach. One man—physically imposing, standing well over two meters tall. He must possess... substantial equipment. I want to be handled with a raw, primal force that ignores my status. I want to be filled until I am physically changed—left gaped and open like a hollow space, unable to close even after he is finished." The Scene: "The Detective’s Open Case" The moon hung high, a pale witness to the encounter on the shore. Kyoko lay back on a dark silk blanket spread over the sand. Towering over her was the man she had requested—a literal giant of a human, his shadow completely engulfing her pale frame. When he revealed himself, his member was a colossal, pulsing vein of power that made even the stoic detective’s eyes widen in silent calculation. "Show me the truth," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the waves. The scene was an exercise in extreme physical displacement. He didn't just enter her; he invaded her. Kyoko’s 18-year-old body was pushed to its structural limits as he drove into her Vaginally, his massive girth stretching her porcelain skin until it was translucent. She gripped the sand, her gloved hands digging into the earth as she let out a high, sharp cry—a sound of pure, unrefined data. He moved with the weight of the ocean, each thrust hitting her fundus with a heavy thud that echoed in her chest. Kyoko’s logical mind shattered; there was no room for thought, only the overwhelming sensation of being "full." As the climax approached, he finished with a pressurized torrent, a Creampie so massive it began to overflow immediately, slicking her inner thighs and the silk beneath her. But it was the aftermath that fulfilled her request. As he slowly withdrew his massive length, Kyoko’s entrance didn't snap back. She remained gaped—a wide, pulsing, red circle of surrender that stayed open to the night air, unable to retract from the sheer scale of the trauma. She lay there, her lavender hair matted with sand and sweat, looking down at the "hole" he had left in her. She was a ruin of a woman, leaking white fluid from a gaped abyss that showed exactly how deep his victory had gone. Kyoko looked at the camera, her expression dazed and completely broken of its usual stoicism. "The evidence... is conclusive," she panted, her eyes rolling back in a final wave of overstimulated bliss. "I am... completely compromised."'
23

Kirigiri Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Pool Scene Reimagined ❤️' with user description 'Giving to Denji what he deserves'
30

Pool Scene Reimagined ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Nagatoro School Life' with user description 'The school festival was supposed to be Nagatoro’s ultimate stage for teasing Senpai, but a catastrophic clerical error involving the Art Club’s budget and a misplaced "Request for Sanction" form had turned her world upside down. Instead of a playful haunted house, Nagatoro found herself standing in the middle of the faculty lounge, clutching a stack of "Debt Repayment Contracts" that she had accidentally signed on behalf of the entire club. ## The Misunderstanding of the Century It started when Nagatoro tried to play a prank on the School Director by "stealing" his official seal to stamp Senpai’s drawings with "Approved for Exhibition." However, in her haste to hide when she heard footsteps, she accidentally stamped a stack of faculty-wide disciplinary waivers. In the eyes of the school administration, Hayase Nagatoro had just volunteered the Art Club for a "total service initiative" to appease every department head and the board of directors. The Director, a stern man who took school tradition far too seriously, looked at the stamped papers and then at the trembling girl. "Well, Nagatoro-san," he boomed, "I didn't realize you were so dedicated to the 'extracurricular satisfaction' of this institution's leadership. If these forms are to be believed, you’ve committed to meeting the individual... *requirements*... of every senior staff member here." Nagatoro’s face turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a ripe tomato. Her usual "gross, Senpai!" bravado had completely evaporated. She tried to stammer out a defense, but the paperwork was legally binding within the school's bizarrely strict charter. ## The Spiral of Embarrassment The first stop was the Head of Discipline’s office. He was a man known for his cold demeanor and love for order. Nagatoro expected to be scrubbing floors, but the "service" required was far more personal and humiliating. She had to undergo a series of "evaluations" that required her to submit entirely to his whims for the afternoon. Every time she tried to talk back or act tough, he simply pointed to the contract. "You signed it, Nagatoro," he said with a clinical dryness. "The Art Club’s future depends on your cooperation with the faculty’s needs." By the time she reached the Vice-Principal’s office, the rumors had spread. The teachers weren't looking for help with grading; they were looking for the "special attention" promised in the erroneously stamped documents. One by one, the male staff members—the PE coach, the history teacher, and the science department head—summoned her. Each meeting was shrouded in secrecy, conducted behind locked doors where Nagatoro was forced into positions of absolute subservience that she had only ever joked about with Senpai. ## The Board of Directors The true nightmare began when she was escorted to the executive wing. The Directors weren't just teachers; they were the masters of the school’s destiny. They sat around a mahogany table, looking at the petite girl who had "volunteered" herself to satisfy the entire upper echelon of the school. "We’ve heard the faculty is very pleased with your... dedication," the Lead Director remarked, his eyes roaming over her disheveled uniform. "It’s only fair that the Board receives the same level of commitment. We have a long night ahead of us, and many 'debts' to collect." Nagatoro felt a chill. This wasn't a game anymore. The embarrassment of being known as the girl who belonged to the faculty was overwhelming. She thought of Senpai, likely sitting in the clubroom wondering where she was, unaware that she was currently fulfilling the "contractual obligations" of every powerful man in the building. ## The Final Payment As the sun set, casting long, orange shadows through the hallway, Nagatoro found herself moving from one director's private quarters to the next. The "consensual" nature of the contract—signed by her own hand, however accidentally—meant she couldn't run. She had to endure the collective "gratitude" of the school’s leadership. By the time the final signature was dried on her release forms, Nagatoro had "serviced" every single person of authority in the school. She walked out of the main gates with her legs shaking and her pride utterly demolished. She had started the day as the predator, the teaser who held all the cards, but she ended it as the faculty’s shared secret. The Art Club was saved, the budget was tripled, and Senpai’s drawings would be featured in the main hall. But as Nagatoro looked back at the darkening school building, she knew that every time she saw a teacher in the hallway or the Director on stage, they would both know exactly what had happened behind those closed doors. She was no longer just a student; she was the girl who had given everything—literally everything—to the men who ran the school. "Gross," she whispered to herself, but this time, there was no teasing smirk. There was only the realization that for the rest of her high school career, she was bound to the then'
26

Nagatoro School Life

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Piper OC Debut' with user description 'The other design I've been returning to, tbh not fully convinced I'm settled on a name yet as she is more recent, but I'm calling her Piper for now... Piper fills the all-around hentai girl role for me, she loves to please and satisfy others and loves to see others get turned on because of her. She is open-minded and her thoughts quickly turn sexual, causing her to discover and embrace many different fetishes. Often she works as a bunny hostess in high-end establishments and has encounters that lead to off-the-clock activities... Here she is getting a little messy~ Search terms: blowjob paizuri facial reverse bunnysuit cum on tongue'
21

Piper OC Debut

onlyyouprod
AI art 'Fruit' with user description 'Fern sharing some grapes'
13

Fruit

blackhairedstudent
AI art '3girls fun' with user description 'The sun hung low over the horizon, painting the coastal waters of the Northern Lands in shades of bruised purple and shimmering gold. The rhythmic crashing of waves was the only sound for miles, save for the occasional cry of a distant gull. Frieren sat on a bleached piece of driftwood, her eyes fixed on the horizon with ageless, detached curiosity. Nearby, Fern was meticulously folding their travel cloaks, her expression a mask of stoic duty, though the humidity was clearly making her irritable. Ubel, however, was not resting. She stood at the edge of the tide, her green hair whipped about by the salt spray, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the shoreline. Suddenly, she stopped, a sharp, jagged grin cutting across her face. "Nyahaha... hey, look at that," Ubel called out, gesturing toward a solitary figure further down the beach. A man was walking along the water's edge, completely nude. Even from this distance, his silhouette was imposing, but as he drew closer, one specific detail became impossible to ignore. He possessed a member of truly staggering proportions—an **extremely big** organ that swayed with a heavy, rhythmic weight against his thighs as he walked. "He looks like he’s carrying a third leg," Ubel whispered, her voice thick with dark, predatory amusement. She turned back to the mages, her eyes glinting with chaotic energy. "Hey, Frieren. Fern. I just had a brilliant, messy idea for how we can spend our evening." Fern stood up, clutching a cloak to her chest. "Ubel, whatever you are thinking, the answer is no. We are here to rest, not to engage in your eccentricities." "Oh, come on, Fern! Don't be such a stiff," Ubel laughed, walking toward them with cat-like grace. "Look at him. A specimen like that doesn't just wander onto a beach every day. And look at us—three powerful mages, all bored. Wouldn't it be a waste to just watch the sunset?" Frieren tilted her head. "What are you proposing, Ubel?" "A performance," Ubel purred, leaning in close. "I want to do something visceral. I want the three of us to engage in something beautiful right here on the sand. A three-way lesbian encounter. I want to feel your skin against mine, Fern’s soft pouting lips against yours, Frieren. And I want that man to watch us. Better yet, I want him to photograph it. I want a record of the moment the stoic mages of the Hero’s party finally lost their composure." Fern’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. "That is... that is absolutely indecent! To have a stranger photograph such a thing? And with *each other*?" "It’s not just for him, Fern," Ubel countered, her voice dropping to a seductive, manipulative velvet. "It’s for the sensation. Think of the mana we could generate through that kind of raw, uninhibited release. And once he’s finished documenting us... once he’s sufficiently worked up by the sight of three beautiful women devouring each other... then we bring him in for the finale." Ubel glanced back at the man, who had stopped and was now watching them with awe. "I want to see if that **extremely big** gift of his is as functional as it is aesthetic. I want the three of us to give him a combined paizuri. Imagine it: our chests pressed together, the three of us surrounding that massive pillar of heat, working in unison. And then, the oral. I want to see you, Fern, forced to open that judgmental mouth wider than you ever thought possible just to accommodate him." Fern was shaking, her breath coming in short, ragged hitches. "I... I couldn't. It’s too much... too many people..." "Frieren?" Ubel asked, looking at the master. "You’ve lived for a thousand years. Haven't you ever wondered what it’s like to truly let go of the 'legend' and just be a creature of flesh? To be used and to use in return?" Frieren was silent for a long time, her gaze shifting from Ubel to the man, and finally to the trembling Fern. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the elf's lips. "It would certainly be a new experience. And magic is, at its core, the pursuit of understanding the impossible. A specimen of that size... it is a biological curiosity." "Nyeh... Mistress?" Fern gasped, her eyes wide. "If Frieren is in, you have to be in, Fern," Ubel whispered, stepping behind the younger girl and wrapping her arms around her waist. "Don't you want to see what happens when the three of us stop being mages and start being... toys?" Fern looked at Frieren, seeing the quiet, curious acceptance in her eyes. The apprentice’s resistance began to crumble, replaced by a surging, forbidden heat. "I... I suppose..." Fern whispered, her head hanging low, though her heart was racing. "If Mistress Frieren says it is a necessary study... I will comply." "Good girls," Ubel cackled, waving the man over. "Hey, you! Bring your camera! We have a show for you, and if you’re a good boy, we’ll let you taste the stars!"'
19

3girls fun

blackhairedstudent
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