My Own Body: Denial
#2 of my own body the emotional start to the my own body story. the journey for acceptance from others often necessitates acceptance of oneself. watching her from across the bar room was like watching something magical in a dingy, real world.
I Own a Tranny Bar
Its black color made it gleam as the horses own precum began to cover itself, the light shining off of it. i stroked in time with her, seeing her grin down at me seductively.
Choose Your Own Fantasy
The fox murred, both of his own paws above his head, gyrating his hips and rubbing himself up against the rat.
Following your own path.
Soon you cream up his bowels in your seed while he roars out his own pleasure, leaving a deep puddle of his own cream in the hay. getting back in front of him, you make him clean your member.
Plot-Your-Own Yiff
Players alone used the precum from those standing next to them to lube up their own shafts. _if you want coach to fuck the team, turn to page 397.
Choose Your Own Yiff
**choose your own yiff** _if you want to go up the eiffel tower, turn to page 98. if you want to go down into the metro, turn to page 72._ jake flipped through the book's pages.
Bring Your Own Bags
Ruslan stared at him, while the deer pulled up his shirt and started at his own belly. it had swelled some, but while they both watched, they saw it move. the lizard inside trying to make himself known.
A Taste of Her Own Milk
She asked, admiring her own work and finding his cock too scrumptious a treat to ignore: cupping her breasts around the mess and letting it work into her own fur, she captured his tip in her mouth once more and suckled it tightly, but even that was enough
Writing Your Own Narrative
Though tama couldn't see her own pussy shi could definitely see the other rubber hybrid, watching as something began to emerge from it.
Useful in its Own Way
It was useful in its own way now.
A Taste of Her Own Medicine
"oof- that's the last time i taste my own medicine..."
THE BODY AS ITS OWN HOSTAGE
My nerves the orchestra none hear. Freeways of fire make me try to gnaw hands to paste. The kitchen burn that melts and cooks my skin till juice beads along my arm is nothing. Skin sizzles, I don't feel it. I feel only talons that rake my ribs,...