Xiva lay there, twitching like a broken toy—limbs splayed, tongue dangling, her scaled skin slick with layers of sweat, spit, and obscene amounts of cum. Her slit eyes were glassy, fluttering in and out of consciousness, her pussy still twitching and gaping from the brutal ogre pounding she'd just taken. Her asshole, loose and dripping, flexed in slow aftershocks, squirting out the last of the sloppy white flood that had been pumped into her.
But Allen?
Allen was just getting creative.
"Still breathing?" he muttered, crouching beside her with a cocky smirk.
Xiva moaned softly—more like a gurgle, really. Her throat made a tiny hiccuping noise, and a string of thick, off-white cum spilled from her lips.
Allen chuckled darkly and pulled something from his inventory.
A fruit.
