cum on ass

AI art "Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings on the subway."

30

Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings on the subway.

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

25

Cyndel Vale needs money 8 (ft. Captain Nemesis)

AI art "Dawn is Horny"

25

Dawn is Horny

AI art 'highschool of the dead.'

4

highschool of the dead.

AI art "Poolside peachy girl"

14

Poolside peachy girl

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 5"

24

Cyndel Vale needs money 5

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

13

Fruit

blackhairedstudent

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 7"

20

Cyndel Vale needs money 7

AI art "Experiments 3"

10

Experiments 3

crn055-null2471

AI art "[Request] Weekend Getaway with Michelle"

30

[Request] Weekend Getaway with Michelle

dreamerofdreams

AI art "More Fire Emblem Girls 3"

29

More Fire Emblem Girls 3

AI art

10

無標題

AI art '300 Thank you very much. (PokeGirls part 3)' with user description 'Part 3 from the PokeGirls for you. Enjoy them.'

30

300 Thank you very much. (PokeGirls part 3)

holo_the_wise_wolf

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)"

21

Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)

AI art 'Bunny party at Ashford academy'

8

Bunny party at Ashford academy

AI art "Zelda after sex"

6

Zelda after sex

AI art "Asahina Casting"

23

Asahina Casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Cooperative gyarus.' for prompt: 'excessive cum inside mouth 2girls gyarus. back to back. naughty face. blonde side ponytails, scrunchie. wavy hair, choker, dark skin, nudes big breasts, small breasts, purple eyes.
laughing
bedroom
1man big penis cooperative_buttjob'

10

Cooperative gyarus.

AI art "Chel collection"

25

Chel collection

AI art 'Aura Captured' with user description 'The snow crunched beneath my boots as I approached the tavern, a solitary beacon of warmth in this frozen wasteland. My violet hair whipped in the biting wind, and the **Scales of Obedience** at my hip rattled—a reminder of my absolute authority. I, Aura the Guillotine, did not fear these mortals. They were but insects whose lives were measured in the weight of their souls.
As I reached the door, an old, obese man blocked my path, his face a map of filth and scars. "You killed them all," he rasped. "My entire bloodline. I challenge you, Aura. A measure of souls." My pride was my undoing. I scanned his mana; it was pathetic. I could have ended him instantly, but I wanted to see the despair on his face when his own soul condemned him. I summoned the Scales, pouring my vast, ancient mana into my side. The scale tipped instantly toward me. But seconds before his mana touched the plate, he drained a shimmering vial.
It was a **Potion of Infinite Illusion**. It didn’t actually increase his power, but it tricked the magical logic of the scales, making his mana appear as a bottomless, infinite abyss for five crucial seconds. The balance slammed down on his side with the force of a falling mountain. Because the scale "saw" him as superior, its magic bound my very soul to his will.
"Silence," he commanded, his voice cold and flat. "Speak only when I tell you to. Only do what I want you to do."
He took me to his new home town, a place I destroyed 60 years ago, rebuilt by the child i dis not kill that time.. he ordered me to serve every one of them, and i Did... one after another, no resting.. some where big, big as monsters, their bodies made mine look small, After forty-eight hours of being used by every man in his village—my demonic body cruelly resetting my anatomy to a virgin state after every violation—he led me to a stone square. "Put your head and hands through here," he ordered, pointing to a heavy, stone-and-iron guillotine frame. "**Wait here in this position in silence until I return. And keep serving anyone who comes to use you.**"
He never came back.
I have been in this position for seven hundred years. My neck and wrists are locked into the frame, my spine permanently arched, my rear perpetually exposed to the whims of the kingdom that grew around my shackle. I have forgotten the sound of my own voice; the concept of speech has withered in my mind like a dead leaf. I have forgotten the taste of food and the warmth of a bed. Most importantly, I have never slept. My demonic stamina ensures I remain wide awake, forced to witness every second of my degradation through the centuries.
The square is never empty. I have become a living monument, a landmark of flesh and stone. Around the base of my pedestal, a permanent slum of forty hobos has taken root. They live in wretched huts built against my legs, treating my body as a communal hearth. While the city sleeps, they take turns fucking me all night long, their unwashed bodies a constant weight against my cold skin. During the day, travelers from across the world join the queue. Sometimes five or six men use me simultaneously—one at my mouth, others at my pussy and anus—clambering over each other to claim a piece of the monster.
My body is a cursed masterpiece of regeneration. It is a biological nightmare of rapid recovery. One second, a man withdraws and my ass is left **extremely gaped**, a dark, distended void pulsing from the trauma of his intrusion; in the very next second, the demonic magic surges through my tissue, sealing the opening until it is **virgin again**. I am a perpetual loop of destruction and restoration, a tight, "pure" vessel that is torn open by the next stranger only to reset before his seed even cools.
I no longer think of magic. The only thing that exists is the count. I have become a living abacus. One billion. One billion and ten. The number is the only thing I truly know. I watch the fashion of the men change and the seasons bleed into centuries. I am a hole in the center of the world, a silent vessel that has processed the seed of entire lineages. I am the first demon to ever feel the sting of a tear, a single drop of salt water that has carved a permanent track down my weathered face—a testament to a billion men and an eternity of silence.'

30

Aura Captured

blackhairedstudent

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