Assailed by pleasure from every side, The Lark twisted and turned, wriggled and writhed. No matter her gyrations, the bliss-drenched hands of Mynx hugged her curves and stroked her skin. The heroine had forgotten her desire to escape, let alone her duty to stop Mynx’s bank robbery. The Lark only moved where Mynx’s hands made it feel good to move. She moaned only when Mynx’s fingers made it feel good to moan.

As those fingers circled her hot, helpless clit, the Lark screamed because it felt good to scream. The heroine’s body thrashed in orgasm as her voice shattered the bank vault door. She trembled with aftershocks and succumbed to slumber as Mynx stepped through the debris into the vault.

Mynx found robbery so much easier when there was a superheroine on-hand she could play like a fiddle.

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