sliding doors

AI art '1k Followers ❤️' 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.'

$AI art 'Peko Casting' with user description 'The dojo was silent, save for the rhythmic dripping of melting snow from the eaves and the harsh, hurried breathing of Peko Pekoyama. She knelt on the cold tatami mats, her forehead pressed against the polished wood in a position of total supplication. Her silver hair, usually bound in disciplined braids, was a frayed mess, sticking to her neck with a mixture of sweat and a heavy, pearlescent sheen. Her dark uniform lay in shredded heaps around her, leaving her in nothing but the remnants of her white bandages. "Young Master," she whispered, her voice a fractured rasp. "I have failed my purpose. The tool has been overridden by its own hidden nature." She didn't look up. The shame was a physical weight, but beneath it, a terrifying, rhythmic pulse of heat still throbbed in her core. "The mission to eliminate the ten rival swordsmen... it was a trap of pride," Peko continued, her fingers curling into the wood. "The bet was absolute. If I bested all ten in succession, they were to commit ritual suicide. I fought through nine of them, my blade a blur of silver. But the tenth... he used a hidden chemical agent. A paralytic mist that slowed my pulse, turning my limbs to lead. I lost. And the price was a 'Blackened Punishment' designed to dismantle the Ultimate Swordswoman." She shivered, the memory of her blade snapping echoing in her mind. "They gave me a choice: my life, or a total physical surrender. I chose the latter. I thought I could endure any trauma for the sake of the clan, but I was wrong about my own limits. They were relentless. The Gangbang lasted until the moon crossed the sky, and they treated my body like a training dummy to be conquered. They took me in every way imaginable, and to my absolute horror, my body began to betray my mind. The more they used me, the more the 'tool' started to feel... human. The friction, the heat... it sparked a fire I didn't know I carried." Peko’s voice hitched, a small, involuntary moan escaping her. "It was a physical exorcism of my discipline. At one point, to prove their total dominance, they combined their efforts. I felt my internal boundaries shatter as they forced three members inside my Anal passage at the same time. The sheer scale of it was impossible, stretching me until I thought I would break, but instead... I cummed. I reached a shattering, involuntary climax that shook my entire frame. I wasn't just being punished; I was being awakened. I was no longer a person or a weapon, just a void being filled by the very men I had failed to kill, and I was begging for every drop." She squeezed her eyes shut, the images of her own distended abdomen and her trembling, wide-spread legs burning behind her lids. "The finale was the most debasing," Peko whispered, her breath hitching. "They lined up and forced me into a continuous, brutal Deepthroat. They held my head by the hair, forcing me to take every inch of them. And then... the release. They finished inside me, one after another, a relentless tide of white tribute that filled my stomach and my throat to the point of bursting. I felt the pressure building behind my eyes, in my sinuses..." > I can still feel the warmth... Peko thought, her mind spiraling. It was so much. My womb was heavy, my stomach was distended, and then my throat became a reservoir. I tried to swallow it all, to be the 'loyal tool' even in my ruin, but the volume was supernatural. > "It overflowed, Young Master," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of trauma and a dazed, blissful heat. "There was so much cum that it couldn't stay contained. It began to vomit back up, surging through my nose and trickling from my ears. I was internally saturated, drowning in the evidence of my own defeat and my own hidden pleasure." Peko finally looked up, her red eyes dazed and bloodshot. Her mouth was slightly open, and even now, a thick, white trail of fluid leaked from the corner of her lip, staining the tatami. She was completely gaped, her pussy and rear remaining wide, pulsing circles that could not close after the scale of the assault. "I am no longer a sharp blade," she whispered, a dazed, shattered smile finally touching her lips. "I am a vessel that has been filled to the absolute brim. And the worst part, Young Master... is that I have never felt more complete."'$