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Horny Hero
The late afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in streaky oranges and bruised purples as I cut through a quiet side street. My mind was drifting, replaying the day's mundane events until a sharp cry shattered the peace. It was ragged, desperate, followed by a sickening thud. My blood ran cold. Peering around the corner of a derelict building, I saw it – a hulking figure, his back to me, raising a fist over a crumpled form on the asphalt. A woman. And even from that distance, the vibrant auburn hair and the curve of her slim figure were unmistakable. Some asshole was beating a hot chick. I felt the urge to intervene rising inside me, every fiber screaming to stop the violence. Her soft moans mixed with whimpers, fueling my desperation to help. This wasn’t just any fight – it was a twisted game of dominance and pain, and I knew I had to dive right into its dark core. I stepped forward, the rough pavement biting into my knees as I prepared to take control. The night was young, and so was the dangerous game I was about to play. The smell of sweat and fear thickened the air as I closed in. Her eyes flickered open, burning with a mix of pain and something else – a spark that promised the fight wasn’t over. I could feel the pulse of desire beneath the violence, a twisted invitation I couldn’t refuse. This was no ordinary rescue - it was the start of a dangerous quest soaked in sweat, power, and taboo pleasures. If you want to survive this night, you’ll have to dive headfirst into the mess and claim your place.