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cream; the statues
simultaneously shoved themselves in as far as possible, Rika's wet
muscles squeezing the shafts in sharp spasms, gradually slowing
until the last contraction came, held Rika's in momentary ecstasy, and
passed. Rika Sakurai collapsed into the statues' arms, breathing like a
marathon runner who'd just surpassed all of Rika's previous best
efforts. The statues chose this moment to change again, their
surfaces swirling through half-a-dozen colours, settling on a
mottled wet-concrete grey; at the same time, acquiring the abrasive
texture of low-grade sandpaper. Rika's eyes widened with the sensation
of having two giant nail-files thrust into her; nipples scraping
against the chest of the statue which Rika Sakurai was slumped against. Not
daring to move, Rika Sakurai waited, still breathing deeply, and a minute
later the statues changed again, taking on a jungle-green colour and
the tactile properties of wet rubber. Rika Sakurai levered herself off the
ribbed protrusion that had been plunged, to the hilt, into Rika's ass;
pushed away from the knobbed prominence before her, accompanied by
the squeaking sounds of wet flesh against rubber. Rika Sakurai addressed
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