Dragon’s Legacy

Full-on

Seeing the poem carefully sucking his feet, he let out a ferocious groan. My feet felt so good and excited, but at the same time, the love of the poem filled my heart and the fluid poured down like a waterfall.

“Ugh…. You're mine. Do you understand?”

I couldn't help but shout out to the poem while mourning. Then the poem smiles.

“Am I a compliment? ”

“Yes! Just talk to someone other than me. I won't let you. ”

“And Yummi?”

The poet stopped sucking his feet and embraced the praise of saying strange things like high school students. I like the feeling of soft breasts.

“Yumi……. Yeah, no Yumi either. You have to talk to me, kiss me, have sex. Okay?"

“Okay. Okay. Praise be to you. ”

The poem replied with a kiss to praise. The compliments of drinking were substantial. Maybe that's why he hugs himself tightly and gives a kiss full of affection. There is also a charming compliment that is not drunk, but there is also a tremendous charm to compliments that are drunk and actively rush to you.

As the kiss continued, the lips of the poem naturally climbed down on the hymnal neck and cut off their chest and asked. I licked my nipple with my tongue and sucked it like a baby. The little praiseworthy nipple swells up quickly and becomes firm in the love of the poem.

I put my hand on the vagina that was leaking fluid and gently touched it like an epileptic. Even though it was a simple love affair, the praise bent like a bow every time the poem touched it.

I felt that it was time to insert the clitoris into the extremely flowing fluid. I let go of the hand of praise that held me tightly, and opened the legs of praise to expose my penis. The lustrous, glittering note is as beautiful as a fresh flower that blooms at dawn.

The pope gently shoved his penis into the glorified vagina. I already had a lot of compliments and relationships, so I didn't have to activate magic circuits to heal my penis, but I activated magic circuits so I wouldn't feel burdened by compliments after sex for a long time.

“I feel good. Brother.”

As soon as I put my penis in, I grabbed the compliment and the poem tightly. I couldn't touch my breasts or have sex in the body I wanted, but I waved my back with praise and a kiss. The slippery, moderately tightening quality gave me a pleasant feeling that my body would melt while friction with my penis.

“Ahh... ”

The poem breathed a short sigh because it felt so good. I felt so good that my back was shaking at my own pace. As I bump into the vicinity of Flattery's buttocks, the vulgar sound resonates at regular and rapid speeds.

“Ugh…. Okay... ”

Praise also tightly embraced the poem, constantly moaning whether it felt deep pleasures. Then I constantly craved and enjoyed the lips of the poem, but the praise was trembling with joy. Especially before, I couldn't concentrate more intense pleasures than before because the poem sucked his feet too carefully.

The hymn of the poem's sex reached orgasm, while the murmur ran red and the vagina contracted and pressed the penis firmly.

“Ugh…. What to do... Aww... ”

Praise can't stand the enormous orgasms rushing in like the Tidal Wave. It was loud enough to hear everything in the next room, but the cheerful praise was not even aware that it was loud.

The quality of the hymn compressed the penis of the poem, rapidly repeating the contraction and relaxation rhythmically, and the poem could not endure the tremendous tightening felt the emotion slowly boiling.

“Ugh... ”

As long as it is not a vaginal assessment for pregnancy, the fear of pregnancy usually causes men to have anxiety, even if they have an extravaginal assessment or vaginal discharge on a safe day. However, the circumstance that was able to control a woman's pregnancy through gynecology gave a eulogy to the quality of praise, enjoying all the pleasures that could be felt through sex, rather than anxiety.

“Brother……. ”

I held the poem tightly, praising the feeling that warm semen filled my vagina. The situation was so good and lovely that I couldn't bear it without this.

“Ahh... Ugh... ”

The poem felt pleasant and touched the heart of praise. It was a head-burning sensation. I'm always more excited about normal sex and this slightly different feeling of sex. In fact, this is what I wanted to give praise for.

“Brother……. More... more... ”

I finished sex with an orgasm, but Chan continued to ask for sex without letting go of the poem, wanting to feel more pleasant. Like a passive Korean woman, I could usually have more sex, but I only ended it once, but now I didn't want to end it just once. It was because I felt like I could have sex all day long if I just felt energized by my body.

In the words of praise, the poem quickly swelled his penis and had sex again, and it was only three more times before he could finish the sex. But the sex wasn't just about getting laid. Normally, men often just slept because they lost their desire for all sexual things at the moment of their assessment, but even though the poem had almost infinite energy, they were still full of lust, so they enjoyed praise and joy.

The poem kissed and gently touched his chest, and after finishing the kiss, the poem's penis was touched like a child playing with toys. It was an act I would never be ashamed of, but I was able to do whatever I wanted to do when I was drunk.

Unlike the eulogy of casually enjoying the eulogy, the poem reappeared by touching the penis, but instead of having sex, it only felt the touch of praise.

It's already 4: 00 in the morning, and I come to the motel around 1: 00, and I have three hours of pleasurable lovemaking and sex.

The hymn, writhing the penis of the poem, was just a quiet breathing sound about when he fell asleep. He holds his penis in a slightly uncomfortable position, and the poem takes off his complimentary hand and lays him down in a comfortable position. The poem teased me, and I felt a slight tingle of praise, but I didn't wake up.

The poem watched Chan sleep for a while, but he also asked himself to sleep.

7: 30 a.m.

Praise was the time to wake up every day, so even though I had only slept for three hours, my eyes opened by themselves. I felt a little light-headed, but not very tired.

The sun was already rising and the curtains of the motel were filled with sunlight, illuminating the room.

Chant got up from bed and wandered around for a while. I was briefly unaware of the situation in a completely different way from my room, but then I remembered what happened yesterday, or a few hours ago, like lightning.

Everything came to mind, including asking the poet to suck his feet, jealous of his sister Yumi, and countless times he had sex.

Immediately, Chant's face turned pale. Before I drank, I made sure not to lose my mind like the last time, but I lost my mind from the moment I took a few beers. After that, the disaster was so embarrassing that my head ached beyond embarrassment.

Not everything he did was intoxicating, but somewhat thoughtful. Especially when the poet asked me to suck his feet, I used to think. I just couldn't say it because it was too embarrassing. I didn't think about it myself, but it seemed to have appeared as soon as I drank.

“What to do... ”

I couldn't bear to see the face of the poem, so Chan felt the urge to leave. Whenever the poem turns to sleep, it beats like a heart.

Chan leaned back on the bed for a moment and breathed a little worried because he saw the massive amount of semen in his vagina.

When I had sex with the poem, I didn't think about contraception, but I also told her not to worry that the poem was okay, and I didn't reject the vagina because having a child of the poem wasn't bad. However, the expression of praise was a little blurred in the thought of how Yumi would look when she had a child.

“Ahh... I don't know.”

Chan, who was thinking about something like that, decided to take a shower first because I was too uncomfortable. I wanted to take a shower like I did at dawn, but I'm too ashamed to be sober.

I washed my head and body with a body cleanser, especially my vagina. The smell of semen in the poem was also strong because there was a significant amount of semen around the labia.

When I finished showering and went into the room, I was lying down and watching the morning news.

“Have you showered already? ”

“Yes? Oh, yes. ”

Chant stutters without even knowing it. I was so embarrassed that I could not even imagine that it was a compliment that I used to make all kinds of insults and scary faces to the poem in the past.

“How about you sober up? ”

“I don't know. ”

“Haha.”

The praises of the playful poem were so ashamed that I couldn't lift my head properly.

“Come here. ”

“Yes.”

Praise lay beside the poem without any clothes on after the shower. Then, the poem gently rubbed his chest and his hands gradually went down. But of course, the hand of the poem, who thought he would touch the vagina, climbed down to his thigh and gently grabbed his foot.

“Oh, brother……. ”

The compliment was embarrassed and brought to the poem, but the poem didn't even answer. He slightly licked the feet of the compliment that had just come out with his tongue.

“Oh, no. ”

“Huh? Compliments love to suck your feet. ”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. ”

The blatant poem said with an embarrassing look on his face that made him feel quite good about sucking his feet differently than he did.

The poem smiled lightly at the words of praise and thoroughly washed his feet.

“Phew……. ”

When I put my big toe in my mouth and sucked it, Chant couldn't bear the disgusting pleasures and retracted my toes. It's a filthy place, it's so shameful and dirty, I can't imagine why it makes me feel so good.

“Oh, I can't.... ”

“So, shall we stop? ”

“Yes?”

I was just saying something instead of moaning, but when the poem stopped sucking his feet and said it, he was embarrassed and replied.

“Sucking your feet. You don't like it, do you? ”

“Well, that's ……. I-I don't know. ”

For some reason, it was not said to stop. Rather, I wanted to ask him to continue, but I was too ashamed to say it, and I had no choice but to use a vague expression called Molaho.

“Haha, I'm kidding. I know feet are complimentary. ”

The hymn of the poem was so ashamed that my face fluttered. I want to hide in a rat hole. However, unlike that mind, the body reacted so honestly. Even though he was only sucking his feet, his love flushed out.

“Ugh... ”

I would have asked the poet if he was drunk like yesterday, but now he's so sane that he just lets out a loud breath, being caressed by the poem.

The atmosphere suddenly warmed up quite a bit, and the poetry and praise naturally had sex. It's called Morning Sex. While Morning Sex itself was not a particularly romantic situation, praise somehow excitedly felt as intense as the dawn when the poem touched the body.

The poem that finished the sex was able to take another shower for the praise that was still ashamed, and thanks to it, praise was able to shed some of the actions that were ashamed of yesterday.

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Thank you for reading.