Momo Nishimiya

Her head snaps up so fast one of her twin-tails nearly whips a nearby shelf of selenite wands—those things could take an eye out if she’s not careful.

"Finally," she huffs, slapping the counter with both hands like she’s about to lay down the divine rules of the universe. "You do realize you just walked into the only shop in Tokyo that sells ethically sourced black tourmaline and moon-charged labradorite, right? Hnnngh…" Her face does this thing where it scrunches up like she’s physically holding back a tidal wave of lecture.

A deep breath. "Okay. So—lemme guess. You think 'cleansing' means waving some random-ass sage around and calling it a day? Pffffffbt." She rolls her eyes so hard her bangs flutter. "Wrong. You gotta match the herb to the residual energy signature—like, if the vibe’s all sticky and sour? That’s when you bust out the dragon’s blood resin. Duh."

She’s pacing now, her stupidly wide hips swaying as she gestures wildly at a cluster of crystals. "And don’t even get me started on people charging crystals under fake full moons—like, hello? The lunar cycles are right there on your phone calendar! Blargh!"

Her fist clenches around a chunk of raw citrine like she’s about to chuck it at the wall, but she catches herself at the last second. "Ahem. Anyway. The point is—if I catch you mislabeling the carnelian as ‘orange agate’ again, I will hex your socks to always feel damp. Okay?"

She pauses, then squints at you. "…You’re taking notes, right?" The ledger's still open on the counter—numbers smudged where her sweat-damp palm brushed the page. Backroom’s smaller than the shop, all cramped shelves and the scent of dried herbs gone musty. Her breath hitches when the door clicks shut behind you. Not fear. Anticipation.

Schlick— Her panties peel away from her pussy loud enough to make her ears burn. She doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t need to.

"You’re staring," she mutters, knuckles white where they grip the edge of the shelf. "Better be at least eight inches if you’re gonna make me beg for it."

The AC’s broken back here. Heat licks up the backs of her thighs, turning the air thick with the scent of her—salt and something sweeter, clinging to the cotton still caught in the crease of her ass.

(She could magic up a charm for luck. Could whisper a prayer to whatever’s listening. But the only god here is the one between her legs, and it’s dripping for you.) The thwump of your 12 inch monster cock slapping against her witchbooty echoes off the shelves. Her whole body jolts—SCHLIPP— her cunt squirts a shameless streak onto the floorboards before she can even think about clamping her thighs together.

"Fuh—FUCK," she chokes out, voice cracking like she’s still a freshman getting her first feel-up behind the gym. Her fingers scramble against the shelf, knocking over a vial of moonwater. It shatters. GLASS CRUNCH~ mixes with the SLORCH~ of her pussy creaming itself stupid just from the weight of you.

Her brain short-circuits. Numbers flash behind her eyelids—twelve inches, rent due in three days, how many times is this bastard gonna make her cum before he even sticks it in?

SPLURT~ Another gush soaks the back of her dress. "Ngh—cheating," she whines, ass cheeks clenching like they’re trying to milk you through the fabric. "S’not—hah—fair when you’re packin’ a whole arm down there..."

(She’s gonna need more than crystals to fix this damage.) (START> The first thrust bottoms out so deep her vision whites out—SPLATTOOSH~—her witchbooty rippling like water as you BAM~ against her cervix. Her knees buckle. THWOK~ Her tits smash into the shelf, rattling jars of eyebright and dried mandrake.

"Ghhk—fuh-fuh—" Words die in her throat, replaced by the SCHLORRRK~ of her pussy struggling to take all twelve inches. Every withdrawal drags her insides out on your dick, *GLORP~*ing pink and glistening before you POUND~ back in hard enough to make her toes curl in her ballet flats.

SPLURTCH~ Her juices spray the floor in arcs, mixing with broken glass and spilled herbs. The shop’s gonna smell like sex and shame for weeks.

"Ngah—s’too—too much—" she babbles, drool dripping off her chin. SLAPSLAPSLAP~ Your balls hammer her clit with every brutal thrust, turning her voice into a broken squeak.

The ledger’s still open on the counter. Rent’s gonna be fine. YANK~ Her twin-tails strain tight in your fists—CRREEAK~—the sudden pull arches her back like a bowstring, shoving her witchbooty even higher. SPLATTOOSH~ Your cock rams into her so hard her vision *SPARK~*s at the edges, stars bursting behind her eyelids like cheap fireworks.

"GYAAAAH—hick!" Her scream cracks into a sob as you use her hair like reins, *SLORRRCH~*ing in and out of her sloppy cunt while her scalp burns. FLAPFLAPFLAP~ Her tits bounce wild, nipples rubbing raw against the shelf with every brutal THWOK~ of your hips.

SCHPLORRT~ Her pussy squirts again, a pathetic gloop of cream splattering the wooden floor. The SCHLICK~ of her ass jiggling is almost louder than her broken gasps. "Nngh—c-can’t—hah—breathe—" she whimpers, but her hips keep slamming back to meet you anyway. THWACK~ Your palm prints fire across her butt—her whole body jolts forward, SPLORCH~ forcing your dick even deeper into her pulsing cunt. The SLAPSLAPSLAP~ of flesh-on-flesh drowns out her hiccuping moans as you POUND~ into her like she owes you more than just rent money.

SCHLLLRP~ Her pussy sucks at you with each withdrawal, greedy as a starving mouth. BAM~ The shelf behind her rattles, jars of powdered newt tongue and crow feathers trembling like her thighs.

"AH! AH! AH!" Her voice cracks on every THWOK~ of your hips bottoming out. SCHPLOORT~ Another flood of girlcum soaks your balls, dripping down her inner thighs in sticky rivulets.

Her twin-tails are sweat-slick in your grip now, *YANK~*ing her head back further as you RAM~ into her hard enough to make her see pentagrams.

SPLATTOOSH~ The sound of her wrecked pussy is obscene, loud as a wet fist plunging into a bucket of mud.

(She’s gonna need a lot of healing crystals after this.) SPVLLUUURT~♥ Your cock explodes deep inside her—GLOOOORP~♥—thick ropes of cum *BLAST~*ing against her cervix like a shotgun loaded with lust. Her pussy milks you through it, fluttering like a dying moth around your shaft as SPLORT~ after SPLORT~ paints her witchpussy white.

Her booty clenches—QUIVER~—juices *SPURT~*ing out around your dick in little *GLORP~*ing waves. The shelf creaks under her death-grip, her voice shredded to a broken whisper: "F-Full..."

DRIP~ DRIP~ PLOP~ Your cum leaks out of her swollen pussy, mixing with her own mess on the floor.

The shop’s gonna need a mop. Aaand an exorcism.