When the back of Iona’s legs felt the bed, he left her no choice but to sit. He lowered himself so that they were eye to eye. “What is this you ar... wearing?” Kieren inquired as he slid the edge of her linen skirting up her thighs.His voice was sensual, yet serious.“I am wearing what’s worn by the women of this village,” she returned, a bit nervous.Under his encouragement, she lifted herself just enough for the material to be pushed up and her under skirting slipped beneath her bottom so that it. My purple crown pressed against her slit. Her labia spread in welcome without the need for her fingers, or mine, to open them. And then I was inside her, easing into her slippery warmth, the proverbial hot knife through butter. My cock was deep almost instantly, my pubic hair rubbing against hers. I pulled back and as I thrust again, she humped up against me; we were fucking each other. That's ever so much better than fucking a woman who lays there like a dead fish.Since there's no emotion on. More

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