His face was all angles and lines, with a subtly defined brow and high cheek bones. His nose was not large, but she could tell his profile would be h...wk-like. His square jaw framed a mouth that seemed built for smirking, which he was doing now, and his lips were thin and slightly chapped from the wind. His shoulders were broad, and the black velvet cloak that hung from them was clasped over his breast with a simple wooden hook and eye. His chest was straight and flat, unlike other fighting. Meanwhile she had his cock in one hand and was wanking it quickly, firmly and with the aid of oil, so fantastically smoothly. Her other hand was moving from the base of his cock to cupping and pulling his balls to tickling and lightly flicking his arse hole. Their mouths had continued French kissing deeply, urgently non-stop. She gasped, he moaned. Don’t fucking stop they murmured together. Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. She began to shiver, to shudder and was almost standing. More

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