Mary sighed softly at the touch of his lips. “I love it when you kiss methere.” “I love kissing you everywhere,” he whispered... “Everywhere?” she teased. “Everywhere.” To prove it he extended his tongue and slowly began to inch his way down her spine. Mary cooed and laid her head upon the pillow. Her skin tasted slightly of salt. Her breaths were slow and rhythmic and her back swayed with each breath. Mary assumed her passive role, receiving, savoring the. The sound was not familiar to him; not because he hadn’t occasionally elicited a moan from his wife, but this moan was too deep sounding, and was definitely not a moan of pleasure, regardless of its source.Mikhailov had no choice but to lie perfectly still and absorb the sensory inputs available to him. Besides hearing the moans, he could smell a stench of body odor mixed with urine. He could see pre-dawn shadows on his ceiling, and he could just start to taste fear in his mouth. Eventually, he. More

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