My wife reached down and felt my cock again through my pants. I think we should free him, my wife said. I sat on the couch and my wife knelt on the fl...or between my spread legs. She unbuckled my belt lightly teasing me as she did it. My cock craved her touch. My wife then undid my pants and pulled them down exposing my cock aimed straight at her face. She wrapped her right hand around the throbbing meat and stroked it up and down. Our eyes made contact as I was enjoying the pleasure of my wife. She was dressed in strange forest garb, her flowing hair was silvery blonde, and her face wore the unmistakable air of nobility. Both taller and more slender than the mountain women - even the prostitutes - she moved with a long-practiced sense of grace, even away from her native forest habitat. She carried something in her hand: a blade of sorts, but not made of bone. No manner of treatments could turn the whiteness of a bone blade into the deadly thing in her hand; it had the cold gleam of. More

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