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The Blind Swordsman.

A tragedy... An abrupt departure... Death... And rebirth. Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword. A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond. It unveiled something, Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented.... A being who seems to weave the threads of fate. Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will? If he does exist, what purpose does he serve? Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him? If it is another's will, can he defy it? Can he turn his sword against his creator, A being who literally writes his reality? Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows, Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

_Eshwar_ · realistisch
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276 Chs

".... I'm gonnhhhaa brrreak" [R-18]

Having thought she experienced the peaks of pleasure, Thistle had relaxed thinking there would be nothing more pleasurable, but as if to prove her wrong that very instance, he rammed into the very depths of her being in one full swoop that had her shuddering confused while under his weight.

FHWOP-! SQUELCH-!

"HEUNG!"

SHLICK-! SQUELCH-!

"AHHGNNNHHUUU!?"

SQUELCH-! PLAP-!

"OHNGHAAAAH!!"

FWHOP-! PLAP-!

"OHEUGNHH!!?"

SHLICK-! PLAP-!

SHLICK-! SQUELCH-!

FHWOP-! SQUELCH-!

.....

....

Sounds inciting lust dyed the room where a far more lust enticing pair held one other, as if to absorb the other into them; they made love as if having given into their primal instinct to mate, as they moved to claim the other for themselves while mating like animals instead.