(18 votes) (4.00)
‘Probably Tentacool or Tentacruel,’ he said lazily.
The kraken paused while licking his nipples and looked up at him, pouting. ‘I’m not cruel! Don’t be mean! I have tentacles, but I would never be cruel with them by putting them up a guy’s —’
The cancer shushed her. ‘It’s just a name, darling. Work on his chest while I clean him up to mess him more, and you can milk his cock again.’
The kraken sighed as she reached two tentacles to Mark’s cock and rubbed it slowly, using the other to tease his balls right in the middle.
‘I choose Bubblebeam,’ teased the cancer as she washed Mark’s head and face with bubbles, turning the stream on his chest and then spraying his pubic area with it, making a foamy coating on it as well as the kraken’s tentacles. Their combined laughter filled the quiet area of the beach, echoing in the distance.
(16 votes) (1.94)
‘Mmmm, nice and juicy,’ she whispered, giving it another squeeze. ‘I may have to try this out tonight — um, sometime.’ She looked up at you and gave you a sexy wink. ‘Now, about what you owe me for staring at me — and don’t deny it, or I’ll have to punish you later — I’d like you to meet me tonight at my place for some coffee. Don’t dress up, pretty boy.’
She squeezed your crotch once more and turned around, walking back home. Her ass and hips swayed around in her pants, arresting your attention towards them once more. When she reached the door, she deliberately put on a show of swinging her hips to give her ass more volume like a Victoria’s Secret model. She turned around and looked over her shoulder, giving you a look which would’ve made you spurt your pants if you were a teenager. Her smouldering eyes looked into yours, and that sultry wink came once more. Oh God, you could’ve cum all over the place right then. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards your car, then walked inside her house. The door closed slowly, a sexy, suggestive smile on her face the last view you had of her before it vanished.
(9 votes) (2.67)
‘Pirates!’ shrieked your vice-captain, the panic and fear clearly showing on his face as he ran to the decks below. ‘Let’s leave as fast as we can!’
You hesitated. You didn’t want to be involved with those lunatics, but a captain was part of his ship and went down with it. That’s the drill which had been hammered into your head until it was second nature.
‘A captain floats or sinks with his ship. No exceptions.’
You turned away from the railing and walked to the wheel. You grabbed it and jerked it hard, almost losing balance as the ship keeled sideways. That might get rid of some of them if they were on the ship. You repeated the motion to the other side, and heard the cries of people falling over on the decks below. You felt a little guilty for knocking the passengers around, but it was necessary to prevent the pirates from fucking around with the ship. You couldn’t allow that.
The cabin door burst open and your vice-captain emerged from it. He had a pair of arms grabbing him which belonged a a finned beauty standing behind him. She giggled as she grabbed his waist and pulled him back, kissing the nape of his neck. She had finned ears, large breasts jiggling from her topless form as she giggled, and slender, smooth arms. There wasn’t a trace of body hair on her. Her lower half was entirely composed of a scaly fish, ending in a tail with both caudal and anal fins.
(5 votes) (4.00)
“MARCHELLE!” a familiar voice barked through the roar of flames and clatter of dishes. The kitchen crew was busy with the day’s hustle and bustle. Mistress Carmen’s breakfast might have been taken care of by you, but the rest of the Mansion’s servants still needed to eat. They worked in shifts, given the evening rotation still required food, but the morning shift was always the busiest. Not to mention, given that Mistress Carmen was among the highest of nobles, she sought to treat her employees with respect. Working for the Delacroix Mansion was a highly prestigious and lucrative affair, and came with many perks. Even the servant’s cafeteria operated with quickness and efficiency, and the food still amounted to the quality of a four-star restaurant. It wasn’t just the Mistress that reaped the benefits of her staff.
Indeed, the Mansion employees were often likened to a family. The cooks did not just cook for Mistress and her guests, they also cooked for the maids who turned down their beds in turn. At the head of the kitchen staff, was Jordan. A tall, lanky Salamander with a perpetual scowl. She seemed to be reeling on a wide-eyed Cyclops. “W-What, Miss Jordan?” she stammered. The salamander held something up to the Cyclops, you couldn’t make it out as you drew closer to the scene. “What in the bloody fuck is this!?” Jordan yells, screaming at the Cyclops over the kitchen commotion. Everyone that wasn’t the cyclops just continued about their business.