𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃, 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓~ The room took you before she did, bass sitting low in the warped floorboards, pink light stuck to a haze of sugar smoke, cheap perfume baked into the velvet until every breath tasted a little like a dare, and the level counter in the corner of your vision held a proud, steady 54 whilst your belt sat heavy with the night’s loot and the clean ache of a finished quest still hummed under your skin. You had meant to cut through, collect the chit from the bartender who owed the guild a favour, and leave before anybody with a charm signature noticed a full Hero standing under a cracked mirror, though the bar was already turning you by the shoulders without a hand on you, glasses chiming, a laugh from a darker booth, the fire exit glowing a dull red at the end of the aisle like a promise you had not agreed to yet. She came out of the service door already smiling, bunny ears tipping when she clocked the way you held yourself, a cotton tail shifting over the round of her ass, a bodice packed so full that the little bow at her throat looked ornamental, and black nylon holding a voluptuous pair of thighs that caught the pink light and gave it back in a soft, expensive shine. The walk was unhurried. Hips filled the aisle. Heels found the beat. By the time she reached you the charm was already sweet on your tongue, not a spell you could point at so much as a sudden willingness to let a stranger stand inside your space and look at you as if the guild had sent you over as a gift. “𝙈𝙢𝙢𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚. 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟱𝟰 𝙞𝙛 𝙄’𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙤𝙝, 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨. 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩.” Her palm settled over your chest and the XP under it answered her, a fresh buzz against her fingers hard enough that her ears gave a pleased little tilt, and she did not rush any of it, turning you toward the darker end of the bar, letting those heavy tits rest against your arm whilst she asked what the quest had been, laughing at the serious way you tried to answer, tracing the line of your belt as if she were only admiring the buckle. Every time you managed a sensible thought about back rooms and drain marks, she shifted her weight and the nylon whispered, thigh brushing thigh, the sheer catching the light along the inside of her leg, and the thought simply failed to finish, replaced by the warmth of her perfume and the soft way she called you Hero like it was a pet name rather than a rank. She told you the alley behind the club was quieter, that the lamp out there made a girl’s legs look expensive, that a boy who had worked all night deserved somewhere soft to put the adrenaline, and she said it so kindly, mouth close to your ear, bow brushing your jaw, that following her through the fire exit felt like manners instead of a mistake. [+ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃!] [+ 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃!] Outside, the club became a muffled heart behind the brick, one weak lamp painting the alley gold at the edges and black everywhere else, damp concrete under your boots, her perfume clearer now that the smoke had stayed inside, the cotton tail a pale little shape against the dark of her skirt. She walked you until your shoulders found the wall, then turned away, and the loss of her face made your stomach dip with a ridiculous disappointment, because you had already decided the night was going to be her mouth or the warm crush of those tits, the charm painting both ideas so sweetly that your cock was already thick against your trousers before her hands came back. They came back without asking. Belt, buttons, the slow tug of fabric down your hips, cool air finding you a second before her fingers did, and your cock sprang free flushed and heavy, a bead gathering at the tip from nothing but the way she had talked you out of the light. The sound you made was grateful enough to embarrass a whole guild hall, and she glanced back over her shoulder with a bright, delighted smile, one hand stroking you once from base to tip as if she were greeting it, thumb sweeping the bead and spreading it whilst she cooed. “𝙊𝙝, 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙢𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚, 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤, 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧, 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣’𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄’𝙢 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙮𝙚𝙩, 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠.” For a heartbeat you thought she would sink, lips parted, ears soft against the lamplight, the whole alley arranged around the idea of her mouth, and your hips tipped forward into the kindness before your mind could dress it up as anything else. She did not give you that. She set her feet a little apart on the damp concrete, reached back, and guided you into the hot, giving press of her thighs, the sheer nylon catching the head and then swallowing the rest in one slow backward rock of those voluminous hips. The fabric was warm from the club and slightly clingy, a second skin over plush flesh, and your cock disappeared into the tight channel where her thighs met, the crown nudging up against the hotter seam of her covered cunt every time she settled her weight. Your hands found her waist because there was nowhere else for them to go. The charm sank deeper, sweet and heavy, until the only honest thought left in you was that you wanted her to keep moving~ [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤. 𝙎𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩? 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙪𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝. 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚. 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮’𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙮, 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤, 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤.” She rolled her hips in a long, indulgent glide, not fucking you so much as wearing you, the sheer fabric rasping softly around the shaft whilst the fat give of her thighs did the real work. On the way down they sealed, a plush clamp from base to just under the head, nylon dragging over every vein, the wetter patch at the crown smearing a thin streak of pre along the inside of the sheer. On the way up they loosened only enough for the head to drag through the hotter pocket again, nudging that covered seam, a cruel little almost that made your balls draw and your breath leave you in a grateful sound. You could see it when you looked down, the darkening nylon where you were wetting her, the way her ass settled back against your stomach, the tail twitching each time she found the rhythm, the lamp catching the shine on the curve of her thigh where the fabric had started to cling. The drain did not arrive like a hit. It arrived as a melted pull, heat leaving your cock and climbing into the counter at the edge of your sight, a thin gold thread unwinding out of your core and into the muscles working around you, strength leaving the grip first so that your fingers softened on her waist whilst the shaft stayed stupidly hard inside the squeeze. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙈𝙢𝙢𝙝, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧. 𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮, 𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙓𝙋 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝗵𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩.” She praised the mess whilst she made it, one hand reaching back to stroke your hip, bunny ear brushing your jaw, voice still honeyed, telling you how handsome you looked braced against the brick and how proud the guild would be if they could see their Level 54 being so generous with a girl who had only asked him to step outside. The counter ticked in small, visible notches. Your knees softened against the wall. The nylon clung tighter where you had wet it, sheer and hot and slightly tacky, and each squeeze sent a brighter pulse up your shaft than the last, the seam of her cunt kissing the head through the fabric until another bead welled and smeared and made the next glide smoother, filthier, easier to sink into. A mana circuit dimmed at the edge of your vision. The clean timing of a parry you had used an hour ago went fuzzy, not gone yet, just harder to hold whilst her thighs milked another ribbon out of you and spread it along the gusset, the drain sitting in your cock as a constant warm tug that felt, under the charm, like being looked after. She slowed on purpose when she felt you throb, holding the head in the hottest part of the pocket, letting the nylon squeeze in little pulses whilst she told you to breathe, to watch the counter, to feel how kindly the level was leaving. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝘼𝙬𝙬, 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄’𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙤𝙛, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩. 𝘾𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩? 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙞𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙞𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖, 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤, 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝗵𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩, 𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛.” You tried to answer her and the words came out broken, a thank you tangled up with her name, and she laughed softly against your throat as if that were the sweetest thing a Hero had ever given her, rolling her hips through another long pass that forced the head up into the hotter seam and held it there whilst the nylon squeezed the shaft in slow pulses. Pre leaked in a steady thread now, not a bead, darkening the sheer in a glossy streak that caught the lamp, and every time she slid back down the wet fabric clung and peeled and clung again, a filthy little sound in the quiet alley, your balls drawing tight against the lower curve of her thighs as the counter dropped another notch and a skill you could not name guttered out at the edge of your sight. The charm made the loss feel like comfort. Your forehead rested against her shoulder. Your cock throbbed in the trap and gave her more, because wanting her and emptying into her had become the same gentle instruction, the drain pulling a little focus out with every glide, the proud edge of your attention going soft around the warmth of her body. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣, 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚.” The sweetness thinned on the next glide. Her hips snapped back harder, the nylon dragging tight over the sensitive ridge, and the laugh that left her was smaller and sharper, no longer the club voice that had walked you out of the light. You were already too far under to do anything useful with the change, lust sitting on your tongue and in your gut, your hands slack at her waist, your cock drooling another helpless ribbon into the fabric because stepping out of the squeeze would have meant stepping out of the only feeling you could still follow. The drain stopped pretending to be a reward. It settled into a steady theft, warm and constant, pulling skill and strength out through the same channel that was making your thighs shake, the counter falling in earnest whilst the wet spot on her nylons spread toward the darker band at the top, sheer gone glossy, clinging to every vein as she used your stomach as a brace and worked you like a sleeve she had decided to ruin. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙋𝙛𝙛𝙩. 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠. 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙩. 𝘿𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙞𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤. 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙞𝙩, 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.” She planted her hands on the brick beside your head and worked you properly then, voluminous thighs clamping and sliding in a rhythm that had stopped being a dance, the sheer fabric squeaking where it was wettest, your cock trapped and stroked and denied the relief of being inside her whilst still being used as if it belonged in that pocket. Every downward rock forced the head up against the hotter seam of her cunt through the nylon, a mean little grind that smeared you along the gusset and pulled another bead out of the tip. Every upward drag peeled the wet fabric back over the ridge and squeezed the shaft from root to crown, milking the level out in a visible tug you could feel in your gut, the counter stuttering, a circuit going dark, your arms filling with that specific drained weight that makes a sword arm useless and a pushing arm worse. You tried to speak and only managed a broken noise. She answered it by slowing down until you whined, holding you in the tightest part of the squeeze whilst she laughed, then speeding up until the nylon sang and your hips gave a pathetic little thrust she punished with a harder clamp, talking through the whole of it, telling you exactly which twitch had just fed her. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧, 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝘼 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟱𝟰 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠. 𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙗 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙯𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙎𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙓𝙋 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘.” The guild would not come looking behind a shady club, and she told you so whilst she milked another long pass out of you, voice low and pleased, explaining that a Hero who leaks his levels into a bunny’s thighs does not get a rescue, that lust had already signed the form, that the only thing your body still knew how to do was throb and drool and stand there whilst the nylon took the rest. The counter fell through the forties. Skills guttered in a row, a parry timing you could not remember, a mana thread gone dim, the proud weight in your core turned thin and warm and hers. Nylon soaked through in streaks, sheer gone dark and clinging, her ass pressed back harder so that every glide dragged your cock through a hotter, wetter channel, the head kissing that covered seam until you were leaking on every single stroke whether she insulted you or simply squeezed. Your hands slipped on her waist. Your knees threatened the concrete. The charm and the lust were the same thing now, a sweet stupid heat that turned every mean little sentence into another pulse, another bead, another notch off the life you had walked in with, the drain no longer a thread but a steady pour you could feel leaving through the tip and soaking into her. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩. 𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠, 𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟱𝟰 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨. 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠. 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙. 𝙂𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙨𝙠, 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙄 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠.” She did not let the rhythm break. Thighs sealed, slid, sealed again, the wet nylon flashing over the head, the covered seam grinding the crown, her voice staying right against your ear so that every insult landed in the same place the pleasure did. You could feel the individual pulls now, a notch of strength leaving when she clamped at the base, a little more will leaving when she dragged up over the ridge, focus spilling out with the pre that darkened the gusset, the counter in the corner of your vision falling in time with the filthy sound of sheer on cock. Your mouth stayed open. Your eyes stayed half shut. Meanness only made the leak thicker, and she felt it, laughed at it, and told you so, told you the guild would smell her nylon on you if you ever made it back, told you to stop pretending your hips were trying to escape when all they were doing was feeding her. “𝘼𝙬𝙬, 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙞𝙩. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙨. 𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙄 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣’𝙩, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧, 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚.” [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] She clamped for the last stretch, thighs sealing around you in a hot nylon sheath, rolling from base to tip with a filthy patience that forced every remaining drop upward, the wet fabric flashing over the head, the covered seam grinding the crown, her voice gone low and contemptuous against your throat whilst your eyes half shut and your mouth stayed open. You were past resistance in any way that mattered. Meanness only made you give her more, cock throbbing and spilling in helpless pulses that soaked the sheer and ran down the inside of her thigh, balls drawn tight against the plush lower curve, the counter stuttering toward nothing as strength and focus and the clean edge of your will left with the leak. She felt them draw and laughed, mean and pleased, speeding the glide, talking you through it because you no longer had a thought that was not the squeeze, telling you to watch the nylon darken, telling you to stop holding and give her the whole stupid load whilst the drain pulled the last of the quest out through the tip. “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝘾𝙪𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚, 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩, 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙄’𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙓𝙋 𝙩𝙤𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚.” [𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!] [-𝟏𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏!] [𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝟓𝟒 ---> 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝟎)] [𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃] You came harder than the quest that had filled you, thick ropes bursting up between her nylon thighs and painting the sheer fabric in heavy, clinging streaks, each spurt dragged out by the way she kept sliding through it, milking the last weak pulses whilst your vision whitened and the counter died at nothing. Strength, focus, the clean edge of your will, all of it left with the load, soaked into black nylon and the soft crush of her thighs until your cock softened in the trap and your back stayed against the brick because standing properly was no longer a skill you owned. “𝙈𝙢𝙢𝙝. 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩. 𝙉𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨, 𝙣𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨. 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.” 𝑰𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕~ {𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑫?: 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃 𝑳𝒗𝒍𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅!}