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Chapter 29 by schooltombstone schooltombstone

Hold on!

YES I CAN! (requires 5 STAMINA)

Baseball! Politics! Salad!

Eyes clamped, teeth bared, body writhing. You swear her dagger found the male g-spot.

"Time! Time! Time!" you hiss.

"Time" says the official.

"Time!?" gasps the Warrior.

"That's time, John survives! John wins!" the announcer proclaims.

Your foe bounds to her feet (taking the dildo with her) & yells something vulgar. The crowd cheers are a nice salve for your aching balls. You raise one fist for them & rest, they applaud your incredible stamina. Eventually, you sit up. Your dickhead scrapes the ground as you stand, stimulating but not in danger of an unwanted ejaculation. You're back. You're ready to collect your wager.

She's currently cornered the official & complaining. Something about her watch being fast, you aren't really listening. Referee is standing her ground against the threats. You're glaring, not in anger but in lust. You don't see the Last Warrior, you see a mouth & tits & ass & cunt. You march over to her without thinking. Your foe falls silent (mid-sentence) when you reach her back, heavy predatory breaths rustle her hair. The audience raises the volume. The official slips out of the ring.

Your foe cautiously turns to face you. Not fear, caution. The pink mist has descended, no telling how much fuck you have to give or how you'll give it. She fucked you for 2 minutes, hell, her naked body has been in your hands for 4 rounds, she knows the recoil is gonna be pretty forceful.

Fuck her...

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