He walked in finding me in chains making love to his wife as she wore an atora with devil horns a pagan mask, leather bands and thong, with ceremonial...anklets and bracelets. To add to it, we were trash talking him. Pretending not to notice him, she stood up in his chair shaking her big beautiful ass and cumming her juice everywhere. I licked her wet pussy and slid my stiff wet dick along the tops of her huge feet, tracing my shaft along her foot veins and rubbing it between them deeply. She. In two years, I’ve written 602 stories and 69 poems. I’m proud of everything I’ve written. At the time I wrote them, it was the best that I could write and not only have I learned a lot but also I’ve improved as a writer. Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote this Dying Swan poem below. The wild swan’s death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear, But anon her awful jubilant voice, With a music strange and manifold, . More

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