you don’t like country/folk/americana? you don’t like the soulful lamenting and colorful storytelling of poor workers and immigrants of the past? banjo banjo🪕?
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So we had a statement? A statement from the Magnus Institute? Regarding an artifact? An artifact that was brought to be placed in some sort of… artifact storage? Artifact storage where one particular archival assistant used to work? Anyway here’s how Sasha James can still win—
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9:37 am - they hit the fuckin pentagon
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imagine Satoru fucking his cute shy gf 🫢
mdni. ( the word good girl is used once ) creampie.
“aw, baby, don’t get all shy now, let me see that pretty face of yours” is the first thing Satoru says, not even giving you a moment to think or react as his fingers wrap around your wrists, pinning them down next to your head while his hips roll intentionally hard against your own.
it’s not fair how adorable you look, all whiney and flustered, making Satoru bite back a smirk of pure satisfaction.
your eyes are filled with tears at this point, of embarrassment and bliss, all mixed together by the soft roll of your boyfriend’s hips fucking his cock a bit deeper inside your convulsing cunt, he can’t help it, wishing to tear every single sound out of your puffy lips, to watch your eyes cross and face scrunch at the impeding orgasm that promise to make you scream.
“toru!” you beg, almost like a broken whimper that makes your boyfriend’s cock twitch, dribbling precum inside your warm pussy and easing the friction between his length bullying your small hole. he goes absolutely insane by the look on your face, sobbing louder now, fingers flexing and contracting under Satoru’s big palm keeping your hands still and unmoving.
“i know, baby, i know” he rasps, a bit of mocking hidden behind his words, although you can’t quite guarantee it due to how his actions seem more erratic, his forehead pressed against yours, taking in each detail of the mess of your face he created himself, open mouthed pants and grunts while his hips fucked into you unforgivingly, knocking the wind out of your lungs with each wet smack of his balls against your ass, “s’close, are you close?” he babbles, utterly lost in the feeling of your pulsing cunt, not giving you a moment to nod as his thumb swipes over your clit, forcing your hands to clench, locked solely by one of his strong palms.
“good fuckin’ girl” Satoru groans, tearing his eyes out of you for a brief second to watch the white ring of cream creating at the base of his cock, his chest rumbling with appreciation before returning to you, just in time to take in the sight of your jaw slacked face as you scream and cum, a bit of drool escaping your lips right in time as he explodes inside of you, painting your walls with white creamy cum that dribbles down your ass and stain the sheets below in a wet puddle just like any other night alongside your desperate boyfriend.
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