SoraI can only nod, eyes fixed on the people dancing below, heart hammering, so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.He shifts the knife. Instead of keeping it to the side, he turns it carefully and presses the dull, smooth edge of the blade against my entrance. It’s not sharp, I can feel that immediately, but the cool, hard metal is still enough to make my breath hitch. He rubs it slowly through my folds first, coating the blade with how wet I already am, then begins to ease it inside me.The stretch is different from anything else. Thin, cool, unyielding. I gasp as the metal sinks deeper, the flat of the blade pressing against my walls in a way that forces me to feel every careful inch.“Easy,” he says quietly, one hand steady on my hip. “It’s not going to cut you. Just enjoy the feel of it.”I do. The cold metal inside me is intense, almost overwhelming, especially after the teasing with the fork. He works it in and out with short, controlled movements, the smooth surface gliding easil
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-09-01 Mehr lesen