Sandra From Primecups With Large Breasts In A Sexual Encounter

Stripped of weapons, armor, and all outward signs of sanctity, Roxy became a living vessel. But he looked up as she entered. What she endures is beyond comprehension — and yet utterly human. Roxy lay still, drenched in sweat, her face contorted in silent pain. Those who served with her never forgot. Not metaphorically, but literally — enduring unbearable physical and spiritual pain to smuggle salvation through her own flesh. But in a galaxy that grinds even saints to dust, her greatest act of service would come not from battle — but from surrender. “Roxy,” he rasped. Lights flickered. Her hands clawed at the stone floor, her legs trembling violently. Those who served with her never forgot. She had prepared the core, anointed it, warmed it with sacred oils to ease the passage. Power returned with a low, reverent hum. Roxy lay still, drenched in sweat, her face contorted in silent pain. Cold. She could not. It was done. It is not glorious.