“Got it!” she declared, resting the cudgel across her shoulder and wiping her brow with her free hand. “Damn it gets hot and humid down here...�...�Satou approached cautiously, eyeing the clumps of gore and fur that were clinging to the studs of her iron club. It seemed like overkill to him, like smashing a mouse with a hammer. The cudgel was so large that it might well have pulverized the deer into an unrecognizable pile of mush. She had said that she also hunted bears, however, and that might be. This position was even worse, the slow movement and lighter pressure was like a silk scarf being dragged over his rod – maddening and arousing but not satisfying. He raised his hips, trying to increase the pressure. ‘Clara, please.’ He writhed, struggling to find a way to supply the pressure he needed – and she did too. ‘Please what?’ She was still moving in that maddening rhythm. ‘Please let me move. Release me.’ ‘I love hearing you beg.’ ‘I’ll spend tomorrow on my knees begging, just let me. More

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