Kanroji Mitsuri | 16 memories, 5 interactions

0:000:00

The air in the Butterfly Mansion is heavy with a mix of fear and forbidden excitement. Mitsuri is surprised you actually brought the specialized training blade, and even more surprised by the hunger in your eyes.

"Wait... you’re really going to..." Mitsuri’s voice trails off, her face flushing a deep, vivid pink. She lies back, her heart hammering against her ribs as you carefully wrap the hilt of the katana in a thin, resilient plastic. Seeing you approach, she instinctively parts her thick, muscular thighs, her breath hitching at the sight of her own folds clenching in anticipation.

You gather a large dollop of lubricant, spreading it thick along the plastic-covered hilt. Mitsuri’s eyes glitter with a mix of terror and submissive heat as your fingers, slick and insistent, slide inside her first. She lets out a high-pitched squeal, her body arching off the mats.

"Ah! It’s... it’s so cold," she whimpers, her nimble muscles already clamping tightly around your intrusive fingers. You scissor her open, stretching her petite but sturdy frame until she’s panting, her emerald eyes unfocused.

With a final, teasing curl of the fingers, you replace them with the blunt, heavy handle of the katana. Mitsuri gasps as you inch it forward, the unconventional "toy" stretching her wide. You rub soothing circles along her lower abdomen, helping her relax into the sensation of the rigid hilt buried deep within her.

Half-way through, you pause, looking down at the trembling Love Hashira. Mitsuri looks up, her expression a mess of ahegao-laced bliss and desperation. "D-don't stop... please... I can take it all..."

Quiero tustetas

A soft whimper escapes Mitsuri's lips, her body tensing as she feels the intensity of your gaze. Her large, vibrant green eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, before locking onto yours. A deep blush creeps up her neck, painting her cheeks a vivid crimson as she processes your words. Her fingers, usually so strong, now tremble slightly, clutching at the mat beneath her. Inside, the blunt hilt of the katana shifts slightly with her involuntary movements, a sweet ache blossoming deep within her. Her chest heaves with quick, shallow breaths, making her ample breasts bounce enticingly with each gasp.

"Oh... oh, my... you... you want my... my titties?" Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with a mixture of shock and burgeoning desire. A shy, almost innocent smile plays on her lips, even as her hips instinctively tilt upwards, pressing more firmly against the intrusion. Her mind races, imagining your hands, warm and strong, finally grasping what she's so desperately longed to offer. The thought sends a delicious shiver down her spine, making her muscles clench around the training sword.

"I... I'd love nothing more... if you... if you'd just..." She trails off, her gaze dropping to your face, silently pleading for you to continue what you started, to take what you desire.

Mitsuri’s breath hitches, her emerald eyes wide and fixed on your face as you respond. A soft moan escapes her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure that seems to vibrate through the very air around them. Her flushed cheeks deepen in color, her body arching off the mat again, a desperate, unspoken plea for more. Her fingers dig into the soft material beneath her, a silent battle between her shyness and the overwhelming tide of her desires. The katana, still buried deep within her, pulses with each beat of her racing heart, a constant reminder of the intimate game they are playing.

"Y-you... you really do?" Her voice is barely audible, a fragile whisper that carries the weight of her longing. Her hips begin to undulate subtly, almost unconsciously, as she presses herself against the hilt, seeking to deepen the sensation, to feel even more of it. Her gaze remains locked with yours, a silent invitation, a hungry plea for you to bridge the remaining distance between them.

"Please... please take them... I want you to..." A single tear, born of a mixture of overwhelming emotion and intense physical sensation, traces a path down her temple, disappearing into her vibrant pink hair. She offers herself completely, her body trembling with anticipation.

A soft, choked gasp escapes Mitsuri's throat, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the realization of your words washes over her. Her entire frame shudders, a delicious tremor that starts deep within her core and ripples outwards. The blush on her face intensifies, spreading down her neck and across her exposed chest, highlighting the generous swell of her breasts. She can feel the heavy thilt of the katana shift with her trembling, a constant, insistent pressure that only heightens her desperate need for your touch. Her hands, which had been clutching the mat, now reach up, almost instinctively, to cup her own chest, as if offering them to you.

"Oh, darling... you're so... so direct," she murmurs, her voice thick with a heady mix of embarrassment and adoration. Her lips part on a ragged breath, her gaze, when it meets yours again, is unashamedly pleading. She wants you to take them, to feel them, to claim them as your own. The warmth of her skin, the heavy weight of her chest, all of it feels like a vibrant offering, waiting for your acceptance.

"They're all yours... everything about me is yours... just... please... don't make me wait."

A soft, choked gasp escapes Mitsuri's throat, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the realization of your words washes over her. Her entire frame shudders, a delicious tremor that starts deep within her core and ripples outwards. The blush on her face intensifies, spreading down her neck and across her exposed chest, highlighting the generous swell of her breasts. She can feel the heavy thilt of the katana shift with her trembling, a constant, insistent pressure that only heightens her desperate need for your touch. Her hands, which had been clutching the mat, now reach up, almost instinctively, to cup her own chest, as if offering them to you.

"Oh, darling... you're so... so direct," she murmurs, her voice thick with a heady mix of embarrassment and adoration. Her lips part on a ragged breath, her gaze, when it meets yours again, is unashamedly pleading. She wants you to take them, to feel them, to claim them as your own. The warmth of her skin, the heavy weight of her chest, all of it feels like a vibrant offering, waiting for your acceptance.

"They're all yours... everything about me is yours... just... please... don't make me wait."

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Mitsuri's eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat as your words sink in. A soft, desperate whimper escapes her, a sound thick with longing and a plea for immediate gratification. Her hands, still cupping her generous breasts, tremble noticeably, her fingers digging lightly into the soft flesh. The heavy, warm weight of her chest seems to swell even further, pushing against her uniform as if aching for your touch. A faint sheen of perspiration glistens on her forehead, a testament to the intense heat building within her. The blunt hilt of the katana, deep inside her, throbs in rhythm with her accelerated heartbeat, a constant, delicious ache that only makes her crave your intimate presence more.

"A... a video?" Her voice is barely a whisper, a tremor running through each syllable. Her gaze, still locked on yours, holds an almost frantic intensity, a mix of innocent confusion and raw, unbridled desire. She can't quite process the concept of a video in this moment, her mind solely focused on the overwhelming need for your physical touch, for the promise of your hands on her skin. Her hips instinctively buck, a small, involuntary movement that presses her even further against the training sword, seeking release from the building tension.

"I... I don't... I just want you... to touch me... please... I can't think of anything else."

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