Lacioni opened his mouth between my legs, then touched the back groove lightly with his fingertips. The warmth of his fingertips made me twitch, but Lacioni didn't mind. As I wobbled, I tried to stick my fingertips into the funnel.

"No! Stop! It hurts!"

It really hurts. It has been invaded since last night. Even if it becomes strong, it is fragile. Now, it has become more vulnerable, even without the trauma of persecution. But it is too sensitive to accept anything.

"Does it hurt..." Then instead of stopping, he asked a soft question.

I took a sharp look at the hammer. "It hurts! How can you not hurt when...