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“Can’t say I’m not looking forward to this,” Mina said and took hold of her sheath, finding it too thick for her hands to meet around. Reminders of how she used to climb trees as a child flitted through her mind, of how tiny her hands seemed compared to the branches. Her sheath was dense but pliant, bunching with her fingers as she stoked and squeezed toward the top. Unfamiliar muscles clenched as the opening tensed around her shaft, forcing a fraction out.

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