The King's Capital, also known as the 'Flower Capital', is home to one of the leading pleasure streets on the Ost continent.
Many bees fly around the flowers that bloom and compete for two names. Unlike the natural world, it will become more active after the sun goes down.
(Nice)
I also used to turn my groin needle into a gnawed, man-shaped bee and visit a cheap junior whorehouse on the back street.
This is a 'uniform store. I'll have all my uniforms. Come on, you too, now, uniform, conquer!' Playroom upstairs.
The blooming flower in front of her is a ponytail girl, jealous with her hands on both hips and an uncomfortable look.
(Modest chest, but great moderately forged leg lines. Plus, it's growing in the middle of nowhere, so it's just a strained skin.)
Raw skin between tight skirt, the pilot's uniform, and boots. I sit on the couch, but I ride myself out, and I lick my gaze around like a tongue.
Notably, you hate me for what I really am.
A former classmate of the School of Pilots.
"I hate to hurt, so I rely on ranged attack magic to escape"
My magic manipulation is remarkably expensive, so much so that I even share pain with a knight who is a golem. This is a desperately conceived and braided way of fighting to make up for its shortcomings.
"Shame on you! Coward."
But thinking, "Melee from the Front is the Pilot's Praise," she denies me in one word.
If you were stronger than me, you'd just have to scorn me, but the score of the match is my prevailing. As a result, they made a lot of noise.
(When I was a student, I just thought it was a hassle, but if I could play in a whorehouse, the story would be different)
Code inversion. The bigger the negative you hold in school, the more positive it is in a whorehouse.
"My body rejoices against my heart, even though I'm held by a man I hate"
Isn't it a really great situation? All this will be a play that even the Mizo can't prepare.
Besides, I'm totally familiar with it because of my persistence in making nominations, and even more palatable.
He doesn't seem to have noticed.
The lower stomach, which runs from the lower mouth, wants to eat me as much as it can twist.
Even from the demonic eye footage where sensitivity can be seen at color temperatures, that's obvious. The stomach beneath the ponytail emits yellow light even though it has not yet been touched.
(I've been free for a lot of time since my last play, and would you like to go with the little one who wants to see Zaratan)
Little by little, the old tortoise exhales satisfactorily. I want to try that way of enjoying myself.
(All right, let's start with sight)
Push it down with your first hand, stab the needle, and stop pouring venom into it.
When I stretch wide under my nose, I make a grin with my upper hand, pointing to the bed with my right arm.
"Yes, then lower your hips to the edge of the bed"
A tight-faced girl with tied hair, who frowns and follows her eyes as she closes. Firm alignment of the knee kid would be resistance to me wanting to peek in the back.
The other way around is fine.
What is the appeal of a skirt? I think it's "halfway through defense."
It's hidden, which makes me want to see it. The wish is casual tricks or a positional relationship with each other. I mean, I get a little lucky.
(A costume that fiercely stirs the shooting heart of the men. Is this no longer a form of gambling)
After all, skirts are devil's inventions. I can also snort that addicted patients are overflowing with the world.
As I stepped off the couch to reinforce my thoughts, I poked my hands at the carpet and looked at my nose to the two raw knees in front of me.
Opening my eyes and watching, I unfortunately couldn't get my gaze through the back because of the light.
(Hmm?
But when I switch to the Devil's Eye, I can see it glowing white. It was yellow earlier, so you can say the temperature has gone up.
If you look up, what you see there is the face of a tough looking girl who is reddishing her cheeks and looking down at this one with thin eyes.
As soon as his eyes met, he closed his eyelids (eyelids) hard and shook his bound hair to the side.
(That's a lot more sensitive)
I can't stop loosening my cheeks. I guess she can no longer even use the thought of being 'seen' as fuel.
"Well, I was wondering if you could just open your knees a little bit"
Tell him to move on to the next step, but he's not responding. Apparently, he's going to pretend he can't hear you.
Ponytails often use these hands when they don't want to follow the instructions' pose me like this'.
(If so)
If it doesn't open, let me open it and show it to you, Hotogis. I whine in my heart and ride on my knees to the bed, turning behind the ponytail.
Next he put his hands in from both sides under a jacket like a tank soldier, over a white shirt.
(Warm, small shake but rubbing elasticity. Is this the smell of shampoo?
A former classmate who stiffens himself and shrugs his shoulders. Enjoy the feel of both breasts, while widening the nostrils wide and breathing air.
(Same phase, good living)
Feels good, intermittently sent from the chest. Even if the meat seeks, I guess the mind doesn't acknowledge it.
I swing my narrow shoulder width to the left and right to escape, but my palms follow my body movements with ease. Continue opening and closing without resting, increasing the amplitude of the shoulders.
(Long time no see, but you don't seem to have forgotten the rules)
I think as my neck is tickled by my shaky bundled hair.
I don't mind body contact, such as waving my belly and resisting. But it is forbidden to use your hands to truly unravel.
"Don't Use Your Hands in Football"
Same as this. It's normal for a person to sit on a chick, but this pig sometimes loses consciousness.
(Okay, I opened it)
Legs stomping backwards, flushed by a sweet sensation. As a result, both legs open more than sixty degrees.
If you look in the mirror hung on the front wall, you can see the light water coloured underwear round.
(Kickoff)
Once the hip melts, it will no longer be closed of its own free will. Somehow the body wants it so badly.
With a modest chest, my hands were repeatedly warming up. Move one side to the right knee of the ponytail to drive up the inside of your thigh with your index and middle fingers.
(Take it away)
The goal is to get herself up on the centerline deep vertically, her precious ball.
Ponytails who notice the crisis try to escape by twisting their hips, but it's already too late.
My right hand crosses the line of skin and fabric in gorgeous steps and breaks into a thin-water field with a center circle. Gently step on the hard ball with your middle finger belly.
"Ugh."
A forged, springy body jumps up with its hips floating. The recoil almost spilled the ball, but here the right player's footsteps burst.
(Marseille Roulette!
Pull the ball on the heel (heel) of your middle finger, then step on it with your index finger for a turn. Pull again with your index finger heel (heel), now step with your middle finger and turn.
It must be because they screwed it around. Ponytail breathes heavily and swells his thorax, pointing to the ceiling with his jaw.
(Bad)
Stop the dribble and let your foot off the ball. It was a lot quicker than expected.
"A former classmate who is willing to never say he wants it, even as he stares at it with his limiting critical, reprehensible eyes"
Appreciating it is the theme of the day. Though light here, there's no reason to be satisfied.
Because this dark delight is also her unique taste.
(But you're surprised you suddenly come down the limit line)
Exactly an off-side trap. It's nice to have increased sensitivity, but the upper limit seems unstable.
I restarted the drill with caution.
Here, the point of view moves to the ponytail, where the left chest is covered with a palm and fingers are placed at the steep point of the groin.
It was dangerous.
I almost broke down. I managed to squeeze it at the critical place, but I think it was really close.
(But that's me)
It will be the result of special training every night. If it had been before, you must have trembled your body as you screamed.
However, it clouds between the and brows.
(So I wasn't the only one with arms up. I regret to hunt you down so far, but that's just great)
Living forward and now, she only looks back when she is holding a toy in her own bed, such as in the past of losing streak of wars.
Crossing a mountain creates a little room and looks down. What you see is the hand of a man thrusting into a tight skirt.
Though I can't see my fingertips in my skirt, I can see you moving them to step on two fingers.
Let me take a breath.
Bend your face and swallow your spit.
Attack. Did the man's hand once retreated see the gap between now and then, and he stepped up the offense again?
(This!)
The eyebrow root of the girl with the cheeky face leans over and her mouth is distorted. What a man pulled as if to jump when he pinched an important part with two fingers.
moment, flowing up from the tailbone to the back of the head, sweet current.
(Unbeatable! Never to lose)
The situation now, where you get hugged from behind and keep messing with your fingers. It is impossible to mount an offensive from here.
We have to endure even and wait for them to become unbearable. It's been a battle since I pushed it down and split it it in.
(Come on, me!
A ponytail that eats teeth and scolds itself. The disgust I once felt, I haven't noticed, but I haven't already.
"A Healthy Spirit Lives in a Healthy Body"
The reverse is true again. The heart of Ponytail, as this word says, was strongly influenced by the flesh that succumbed to joy.
And there was plenty of time to beat Tauro's offense.
This one, on the other hand, is Tauro with a thin vertical wrinkle between his eyebrows. A little, but you can say I'm confused.
"A former classmate who, while staring with resentful eyes, is never willing to say he wants it"
That's what I wanted to see, but the reaction is odd.
What's that look?
When the waves pushed against the ponytail, I loosened my hand on the verge of a collapsed wavehead. It would be an exquisite finger addition and subtraction if you had a demonic eye.
(Must be crazy)
I looked at the front wall mirror with a damn grin, but the look on the ponytail that meets me is somehow proud. 'How's it going,' he even seems to be good at.
You're making a mistake.
It didn't collapse, it didn't collapse. I don't think about it, I must be interpreting it the way I like it.
Solving misunderstandings is easy. If I hadn't put my hands on it, they'd have noticed right away.
(But)
You can see how sorry you are, but I still want to travel first today.
"Excuse me first."
Tell the ponytail to drop off in a light tone, go ahead and be very satisfied. Don't. If you're not going to see me put up with it, this will be my next point.
"Yes, let's come over."
Me snorting alone with a hug from behind. Drag the powerless ponytail body straight to the center of the bed.
The next time I moved toward my leg, I looked at the contents of the tight skirt and looked at it.
(Usually I let him wear it, but he plays it off)
Let's change the fun a little bit today.
But even though I have underwear, I can't take it off completely. Uniform store because it is a 'dressed play', forgiving or even half undressed.
(All right)
As I inserted my hands, I slipped my light watery underwear down to my ankle and pulled out only one leg. So think about it a little bit and put your underwear back up to your knees.
(Not bad)
Where a piece of cloth is stuck with one leg's thigh, I find it hard to explain. I was worried about my ankle, but this is pretty good too.
No ponytail resistance, by the way. Lifting her eyebrows, the atmosphere is melting sweetly, although it comes with a strong light on her eyes.
(Long time no see, how have you been?
A mouthful of salivation at the base of both legs. Gently speaking with your middle finger, your lips move and your hips float as if you were going to eat them.
Unlike the top, the bottom mouth is honest. I don't hide the fact that I'm hungry.
"Enjoy."
I lowered my eyeballs, and when I covered them, I offered them a hard sausage with my hips, which began to crumble with gravy.
Downtown was just a little further down there when the pleasure streets were engulfed with enthusiasm, including Tauro.
In the living room on the top floor of some three floors, three spiritual beasts gathered on the bath towel for a chat.
"What's wrong?
A five-year-old larvae of a magpie butterfly asks the turtle.
Zalatan, the oldest great spiritual beast, often doesn't move much and is thorough with his listeners. Tonight, however, it is strangely soft.
"Body Moving Casitaino Da"
They're energized. I noticed it was about noon and said I was sure when the sun went down.
The only thing I can think of is the first harvest this morning and the Garden Forest Vintage (Buntan). In return for the seniors, the imobes and dangouts face their heads.
"How's that?"
'I don't know'
At least I'm unconscious.
Unlike Zalatan, who ate the whole one, I think the two of them are probably because they just scratched the skin a little bit.
So what came to mind was the Lord of the Spirit Beasts who made them owners of the Garden Forest and were here. Although skins and seeds were given to a herd of heavy horse riding (Heavy Lancers), almost all of the pulp is in their mouths.
"Lifespan Gayan Vitayamo Chiren"
If you feel better, you get compliments. Imosques and dangolows thinking about such things, but reacting sharply to the turtle whining.
The elder, who was asked how long, replied about three days.
"Mai Mai Chi, Tie Me Up"
"Shiatsu, Shiatsu"
When he smiles bitterly at the two noisy reptile faces, Zaratan adds up words that were not enough.
That's the first one for the eating side, and even the first one doesn't work after the second one.
"Seasonal No First Product Dakenanoda"
Food with seasons is more or less potent. But it's rare to feel so strong so far.
I went on to say that it would be the gift (occasional) of my predecessors' dedication, and summed it up nicely.
(... Myself ha chi stop medaga, lord ha no u)
Zaratan thinks as he narrows his eyes to two praiseworthy people. Boiling vitality should strongly support reproductive activity.
(From Meyo, Masaya Seyo, Dini Manchiyo. Dattaka?)
I once allowed you to live on your back, a friend of a family. I close my eyelid when I remember that word and I want you to do your best.
By the way, Zalatan doesn't know about contraceptive magic.
Naze, what happened to Sonoyona?
If I had known, I would have sincerely questioned it. This great spiritual beast, which was willing to increase, could not understand the reason for avoiding it.