11,968
grabbing

grabbing

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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
3

Senza titolo

nekozzie
AI art 'Nami Cosplay'
20

Nami Cosplay

barry915
AI art
12

Senza titolo

chainny
AI art 'Frieren ❤️ Marin Purple Room'
30

Frieren ❤️ Marin Purple Room

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Praying ❤️' with user description 'The campfire crackled softly between them, casting flickering orange shadows against the ancient ruins where they had made camp. Frieren was focused on a tattered grimoire, searching for a spell that supposedly removed moss from stone. Fern sat opposite her, fastidiously polishing her staff. After a long silence, she looked up, her expression as stoic as ever. "Mistress Frieren," Fern began, her voice clinical. "Do you remember the 'Church of the Eternal Font' we passed near the Auberst border? They offered a trial for mana expansion." Frieren didn't look up. "Mana is built through decades of study, Fern. Gimmicks are useless." "It wasn't a gimmick," Fern countered. "They told me that if a mage could remain in continuous, focused prayer for exactly three hours, their mana capacity would permanently expand. But there was a catch—the 'Testing of the Flesh.' The priests were permitted to do anything to break my concentration, provided they didn't use violence or magic." Frieren finally closed her book, curious. "And you accepted?" "I wanted to be stronger for you," Fern replied. "So, I entered the sanctum, knelt on the cold marble, and began the chant." Fern took a deep breath, her hands tightening on her staff. She began to describe the ordeal with a detached, rhythmic cadence. "The first hour was psychological, but then they began to touch. They removed my boots and used their tongues and soft feathers to lick and tickle my feet. It was an agonizing sensation, but I did not move. When they realized my spirit was firm, they became invasive. They stripped my robes. One priest knelt before me, forcing his member into my mouth for a deepthroat so intense I was gagging, my eyes watering from the pressure. I kept the prayer vibrating in my chest, even as he finished, his seed coating the back of my throat." Fern’s voice remained flat, despite the harrowing detail. "Then came the physical intrusion. I was pushed onto my hands and knees. One priest entered me from behind while another took my front—a double penetration that felt like I was being torn apart. They were relentless, using their fingers to stimulate me while hammering into my body, trying to force a scream from my lips. They used my body as a vessel for their lust. Licking every inch of my skin, biting my ears, and eventually, several gathered for a bukkake. I felt the warm, sticky weight of their release hitting my face and hair. They even used my anal passage, a searing intrusion that made my breath hitch. But I remembered your lessons. I treated the sensations as nothing more than external noise." Fern looked Frieren directly in the eyes. "For three hours, I was a statue. When the final bell chimed, they stopped. I stood up, cleaned myself with a cantrip, and walked out." "And?" Frieren asked softly. "I felt it," Fern said, a small ghost of a smile appearing. "A violent expansion. My mana capacity is significantly larger now. It was the most difficult training I have ever endured." Frieren was quiet for a long time. Then, she reached out and patted Fern’s head with clumsy affection. "You really are a pervert about magic, Fern," Frieren said with a hint of pride. "To go that far just for power... you’re starting to remind me of Master Flamme." Fern huffed, her familiar pout returning. "It was a calculated decision, Mistress Frieren." "If you say so," Frieren murmured, reopening her book. "But next time, ask me. I have a spell for mana growth that involves bitter herbs. It’s much less... messy." "Now you tell me," Fern muttered, returning to her polishing as the secret finally settled in the quiet night air.'
21

Praying ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Power ❤️ Makima' with user description 'Makima and Power found themselves alone in a dimly lit room on the outskirts of Tokyo, the kind of hidden devil-hunting outpost that reeked of old blood and damp concrete. The mission had gone sideways— a powerful new devil had cursed them both with a binding contract. To break it and regain their full strength, they had to "exchange essence" in the most intimate way possible before sunrise. Makima, ever the composed Control Devil, had read the fine print with a faint smile. Power, the wild Blood Fiend, had laughed at first, calling it stupid... until the curse started draining their power, making their bodies burn with unnatural heat. "Fine! This stupid curse won't beat the great Power!" she growled, already shedding her blood-stained clothes. Her horns glistened, and her red eyes burned with a mix of defiance and growing arousal. Makima watched her with that serene, predatory gaze, slowly unbuttoning her own white shirt. "You'll enjoy this more than you admit, Power," Makima purred, stepping closer. "I can feel it already." They collapsed onto the old mattress in the corner, bodies pressing together. Makima took control at first, pushing Power onto her back and climbing over her in a 69 position. Power's thighs were thick and strong, her skin pale and surprisingly soft. Makima lowered her hips, pressing her slick, neatly trimmed pussy directly onto Power's eager mouth. Power didn't hesitate. Her long tongue immediately lapped hungrily at Makima's folds, tasting the sweet wetness that was already flowing. "Mmmph... you taste... good," she mumbled between messy licks, her usual arrogance melting into greedy moans. She dove deeper, sucking on Makima's clit before dragging her tongue back further to swirl around the tight ring of her anus. Power licked it sloppily, drooling heavily as she worshipped both holes, her saliva mixing with Makima's juices and dripping down her chin. Makima let out a soft, breathy moan—rare for her—grinding her hips down. "Good girl..." She leaned forward, burying her face between Power's spread legs. Power's pussy was soaking, puffy and pink, with a wild tuft of hair above it. Makima licked her slowly at first, savoring the metallic-sweet taste of the Blood Fiend, then lapped messily at her dripping entrance. Her tongue pushed inside, fucking her with wet, obscene sounds. Both of them were drooling constantly now, faces shiny and messy. Power moaned loudly into Makima's cunt, the vibrations making Makima shiver. "Ahhn~ Your asshole tastes so fucking dirty and good!" Power gasped before shoving her tongue back in, rimming her deeply while two fingers pumped into Makima's pussy. Makima returned the favor with equal enthusiasm, her elegant tongue flicking rapidly over Power's swollen clit before trailing down to lap at her twitching anus. She circled it lovingly, then pushed inside, making Power's hips buck wildly. They were lost in it, loving every second. Power's hands gripped Makima's ass, spreading her cheeks wider so she could bury her face completely, licking and sucking both holes with sloppy, drooling devotion. Makima's usual cold demeanor cracked as she whimpered and ground harder, her own drool running down Power's thighs while she ate her out with passionate hunger. "Fuck... Makima... I love your pussy... love your ass..." Power babbled between long, wet licks, completely addicted. "You're mine, Power," Makima whispered back, voice thick with lust as she sucked on Power's clit and fingered her tight anus. "And I love devouring you like this." They kept going for hours, switching positions, faces always buried in each other's dripping, saliva-soaked pussies and asses. The curse broke somewhere in the middle of their second mutual orgasm, but neither stopped. They just kept licking, drooling, and loving every filthy, affectionate second of it.'
30

Power ❤️ Makima

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 8 (ft. Captain Nemesis)"
25

Cyndel Vale needs money 8 (ft. Captain Nemesis)

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

1000! Perrin is Horny to Celebrate~

onlyyouprod
AI art 'Ichika Pink Room'
30

Ichika Pink Room

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Chika Dark Fantasy"
30

Chika Dark Fantasy

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Chun-Li Threesome"
22

Chun-Li Threesome

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Emma witch Training' with user description 'The roads after the civil war felt heavier somehow, scarred by battles that still echoed in my memories. I am Emma Millstein, and though peace had returned to Erebonia, my magical abilities remained unsettled—threads of arcana slipping from my grasp like frayed silk. Celine had insisted on this journey to seek ancient ley lines, but I pressed on with quiet determination. My purple hut stood grounded in a quiet clearing as I reached the misty crossroads lined with ancient oaks. There sat Celine, my feline familiar, perched elegantly on a weathered stone, tail flicking with her usual impatience. Her golden eyes narrowed as I approached. "Celine," I said softly, adjusting my witch's hat with a gloved hand. My voice carried the polite restraint of my noble upbringing. "My powers have not recovered as I hoped since the war's end. The spells feel diminished. The elements respond with delay. Do you know of any method to strengthen them? Anything at all that might help?" Celine licked her paw once, then fixed me with that sharp gaze. "Meow, Emma, you're always so serious. There is one hidden way, but I'm not sure if it actually works. It's old folklore. Rose does it almost every week down in the settlements. Claims it replenishes her life energy." My cheeks warmed slightly, but I kept my composure. "What is this method, Celine? If it's possible, I wish to try it. I've come too far to dismiss any path to restoration. Tell me plainly." The cat stretched lazily. "It's life energy absorption, through intimate means. You have to draw it from men—the more, the better. Make them cum inside you, on your body, or in your mouth. Their vital essence transfers that way, supposedly flooding a witch's core with raw power. I've caught Rose doing it with the male villagers more than once. She'd take them all, letting them use her until she glowed. But Emma... it's not elegant sorcery. It's messy. Primal." I stood there a long moment, refined sensibilities clashing with necessity. The idea was crude, far beneath the dignified arts of the Millstein line, yet the war had taught uncomfortable sacrifices. My heart raced with hesitation, a flush creeping up my neck, but my voice remained steady. "If Rose can manage it weekly and maintain her strength, then... it does not hurt to try. For the sake of my magic, and to better protect what remains dear. I will endure it." Celine's tail swished. "Your choice, witch." Word spread quickly through the nearby small village via a subtle illusion spell. By evening, they arrived—more than forty men, farmers and laborers, drawn by curiosity. I welcomed them into my grounded purple hut, lit by soft magical orbs. Standing tall in my dark dress, I spoke with quiet resolve. "I seek only to restore my strength. Give what you will, and I shall receive." They were not gentle. Hands pulled at my clothing, stripping me bare and tossing me onto the bed like discarded cloth. I gasped as the first burly man claimed my mouth, his thick length pushing past my lips while I struggled to maintain composure. Another spread my legs, entering me without preamble, the stretch burning. Pain bloomed, but I focused inward, seeking any trace of life energy. They used me relentlessly, passing me like a shared toy. Flipped onto hands and knees, one pounded my pussy while another forced into my ass, the dual invasion bringing tears. Cum splattered my breasts and face as others stroked over me. I swallowed what I could, salty and overwhelming, while more flooded inside, leaking from every hole. They tossed me around the hut—lifted and impaled, bent over the table, held between two thrusting in rhythm. Slaps echoed, grunts filled the air. Over forty men rotated through the night, using every way imaginable: double penetration, hands and mouth filled, seed coating my hair, thighs, pooling beneath me. By dawn, I lay wasted on my bed, legs splayed, my refined form gaped and trembling. Cum poured from my stretched pussy and ass in thick streams. My skin glistened with layers of it, body aching with raw pain. Nausea twisted my stomach from the excess. Celine padded in, leaping onto the bed's edge. She surveyed the scene, nose wrinkling. "Celine," I rasped, voice hoarse yet polite, barely lifting my head. "I don't feel anything new. Only pain and nausea. It burns everywhere. No new strength, no clearer arcana. Just this emptiness." The cat tilted her head, amusement in her tone. "Well, Emma dear, maybe Rose is just a little whore who enjoys getting fucked senseless every week. Some ancient ways are just excuses for that. You might need a different spark." I closed my eyes, lying there full and broken, the war's scars no lighter. My quest continued, but this path brought only weariness.'
23

Emma witch Training

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Paizuri : Minimum equipment required."
23

Paizuri : Minimum equipment required.

zuzul
AI art "Fern Gangbang"
24

Fern Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art "A Nightclub Memory"
30

A Nightclub Memory

dreamerofdreams
AI art "Maomao"
20

Maomao

zuzul
AI art "DarkRoom Gangbang"
29

DarkRoom Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Nagatoro's Casting' with user description 'The Righ train The rhythmic clack of the train tracks was a dull hum against the pounding of my own heart. I was leaning against the cold, vibrating door, my jaw working a piece of grape gum with lazy, rhythmic chews. My eyes were glued to my phone, my thumb swiping through my "private" folder. I was so caught up in admiring my own tan lines and the curves of my unclad body in those mirror selfies that I didn't realize I wasn't alone in my vanity. I was so focused on the screen that I didn't see the shift in the air—the way the tired salarymen around me had stopped looking at their newspapers and started staring at the illicit, glowing heat in my hand. Then, the sound changed. It wasn't just the screech of the rails; it was the frantic, wet sound of friction. My eyes flicked up for a split second, and my heart skipped a beat. All around me, men had their trousers open, their members out and pulsing. They were masturbating right there, eyes locked on my screen, then on me. I felt a surge of genuine panic, my mouth falling open, the grape gum forgotten. I went to scream, but before a sound could escape, a heavy, calloused hand slammed over my mouth. Another hand gripped my breast, squeezing the soft flesh through my white off-the-shoulder ribbed crop top. I struggled, my white Mary Janes scuffing the floor, but then I saw my phone. A man had snatched it. His thumb hovered over the "Post" button on my Facebook. All those photos—the ones that would ruin a "normal" girl—were a millisecond away from being seen by everyone. "If you don't want the whole world to see how much of a little slut you are," he hissed, "you're going to satisfy every man on this train." I froze. A slow, predatory smirk began to spread behind the hand covering my mouth. My panic didn't vanish; it transformed into a wicked realization. "You think I'm scared?" I thought. "This... this was the plan all along. I wanted to see if anyone was bold enough to take what I was showing them." They didn't waste time. They didn't even take off my top; they just yanked the elastic down, exposing my breasts to the stale air. I was forced to my knees, my jaw aching as I took the first man into my mouth. I used every trick I’d ever imagined, swallowing the thick, bitter floods of cum until my eyes rolled back. But that was just the "loading screen." They stood me up, pinning me against the door. They didn't even remove my frayed denim shorts; they just shoved the fabric aside. I felt a thick, leathery cock drive into my pussy, stretching me until I thought I’d break. Then came the anal conquest—a searing, pressurized invasion that made me see stars. My pussy was already red and swollen, leaking their combined seed, but the sensation of being filled from behind while another worked my front was a "Double Penetration" that left me gasping. Eventually, my shorts were shredded and cast aside, leaving me completely open. Two men stepped forward at once, their eyes hungry. They began the "Double Vaginal" assault, both of them forcing their way into my heat at the same time. The pressure was staggering, stretching my walls to their absolute limit. As I writhed under the weight of them, one of my white Mary Janes caught on a man’s leg and popped off, hitting the floor with a dull thud. I was left with one foot bare, my toes curling as they hammered into me. As the train pulled into a station, I was pressed hard against the glass. People on the platform stared in shock, watching the "innocent" girl in the white crop top being relentlessly fucked by a rotating line of men. More men pushed into the car, drawn by the sight of my public ruin. I was a mess of sweat, saliva, and white stains. By the time the train reached the final stop, I was slumped on a train seat, my legs spread wide and my pussy overflowing with a thick, white soup of cum that dripped onto the cushion. My skin was flushed, and I was completely spent. I watched, breathless, as the man with my phone finally hit "Post." My nakedness was now public, trending for the whole world to see. I didn't cry. I didn't hide. I just leaned back against the seat and smiled, a dark, triumphant glint in my eyes. I wasn't ruined; I was a star. The notifications were already starting to pour in, a symphony of digital attention. This was the debut I had always wanted—the "Ultimate Senpai" had just become the most famous girl on the internet.'
21

Nagatoro's Casting

blackhairedstudent
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