Hot scene with Master Roshi | Dragon ball | Anime Hentai 1080p
The naughty animated video begins with Master Roshi sitting cross-legged on a snapshots-flecked tatami mat, his weathered face flustered, his dentures clattering. His wrinkled hands quiver as he unfurls a faded scroll, squinting at lurid illustrations of buxom bakeneko and slick-necked snake ladies.
Suddenly, the shoji door slides open with a squeal of warped wood. In saunters a curvaceous vixen with a beguiling smirk, her ruby lips and obsidian eyes glinting. She’s a dead ringer for Bulma Briefs – except her ample bosom is barely contained by a lacy kimono that dips daringly low. A mass of raven curls cascades down her back, fluttering as she struts closer on platform geta sandals.
“Master Roshi,” she purrs, settling opposite him with a fluid grace. Her kimono slips off one creamy shoulder. “I couldn’t help but overhear your… shall we say, educational discourse. And I thought you might need some, shall we say, hands-on instruction.” She flashes a lascivious wink.
The old martial artist gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Y-You heard our discussion, my child?” His voice quavers, both from her brazen intrusion and the tantalizing sight of her J-cup cleavage.
“I’m no child, old man,” she retorts with a throaty chuckle. She reaches out a pale hand to caress his liver-spotted cheek. “And I know a thing or two about the carnal arts. Shall I demonstrate?”
Before he can protest (not that he wants to), she seizes his wrinkled hand in her soft paw. With kittenish grace, she guides it beneath her kimono to cup the heavy globe of her breast. She exhales a shuddery moan as his gnarled fingers find the pebbled peak of her nipple.
“Mmm, you’re a fast learner,” she coos, arching into his touch. She leans in closer, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Now, does a master not deserve a reward for his diligence?”
Never one to shirk his educational duties, Master Roshi allows the temptress to unknot his fundoshi. His flaccidHot coral appendage flops free, bobbing eagerly. The vixen closes her lacquered fingers around his length, stroking with maddenly slow pumps until he’s straining to delicious stiffness.
She releases him with a last teasing squeeze, then strips off her kimono in a single fluid motion. Her porcelain breasts bounce tantalizingly as she straddles Roshi’s lap, her dripping petals grazing the weeping tip of his probable. With agonizing deliberation, she lowers herself onto his jutting column inch by torturous inch.
“Mmm, what a big, thick master you are,” she whispers, beginning to ride him with sinuous rolls of her shapely hips. “Don’t you ever doubt your prowess again.”
Her inside muscles ripple around him like liquid silk, milking his aching flesh. He grips her pliant buttocks, spreading them wider as he slams into her eager loins again and again. Their grunts and moans fill the small dojo, punctuated by the squeal of the tatami as they rut.
The vixen leans back, changing angles abruptly. Roshi’s thrusting cockhead kisses her G-spot and she howls, her slick sheath clenching vise-tight around him. Her pendulous breasts bounce hypnotically as she rides him with wild abandon.
From his perch on the rafters, Roshi’s specialized spying devices record the lurid scene, secretly transmitting it to his pupils in a virtuoso lesson on the intimate secrets of the opposite sex. And, of course, to the delight of whoevers perusing his very own Z collection…
