>>41645491The constriction serves only to boost my morale, and press on harder and harder. She squeezes and tightens, but i don't give, and neither does she. By now I want to just let loose inside, but I know it would be a bad experience if we were to end it then and there. One of my hands is surely gripping her firm mound, easing her upon the drill that pierces her, but the other is on her side, just around the corner from her venusian breast. Her fur gives both of them a sheen rivaled only by great balls of fire, and my thumb mustn't rest today, nor any day. It strums up and down as my other fingers rub her side and back. She is embraced by me, as I by her. Our mouthy endeavors have quieted down, for all we are focused on is the rhythmic pounding, muffled by fur. She drips ever so, giving fresh oils as not to need a lubey break, but her schlickity slide is not an easy trip. Breaking into a vault worth more than gold, I force myself upon the pearly gates once more, and give it my all. Her solid guitar has lost its player, and her dough in desperate need of one to knead it, but she does not hear their calls. Her ears are deafened by arousal, only faintly picking up my calls to her, however bestial they are. Her arms lock with mine as I drum the executioner's call. In what seems to be hours of ecstasy, my hips elope with hers as our yips, yaps, and moans call for one another, loading the rifles for the twenty-one cumshot salute. Giving one last desperate winch of the vice, the Cinderace I held dear gives me no slack, and neither do I. My floodgates burst, spilling forth a wave of smooth batter. I dont stop my thrusts to let the dam drain, instead choosing to whisk the mixture of freshly cracked eggs, raw sausage, and milk straight from the udder, and knowing my dear Cinderace, the cake will pop out of the oven in less than a year. She is sweet, soft, and just a little warm in the blankets, but i wouldn't give her up at all. I love Cinderace with all my heart.
