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... leasure cresting and breaking, leaving her trembling against the door as she squirted all over him, the heat a shocking contrast to the cool night air.
Transfer!Oathran didn’t have a pair of majestic horns. His hair was stark white, but human-short, not a flowing waterfall. He didn’t have a shapeshifting draconic form or a pair of cocks.
This was a twenty-year-old boy’s body, all lean muscle and human urgency. But the rhythm of his thrusts, the focus in his storm-grey eyes, the p ...
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