She hated the feeling. Hated her people. They lived in fear. They built their faux community, putting everyone before themselves, to the detriment of ...hemselves. Community mattered only so far as you weren’t accused of witchcraft, of being a skinwalker. Then you were cast out. Or worse. She hated him as well, that U.S. Marshall with the smug look of satisfaction. What he’d done. What he hadn’t. The guitar. Abandoned in a dark hallway in a Honky Tonky full of Dixies. Despite that though,. He lifted Brenda's legs straight up putting her calves across his chest. Her high heels pointed straight up above his shoulders. He dragged her ass to the edge of the desk to his waiting cock. He let his cock lay over her cunt and he rocked back and forth feeling the wet lips massaging his underside of his shaft. Brenda spread her cunt lips with fingers exposing her clit. Brenda's whole body jerked when the shaft of Master's cock rubbed against the hard swollen bud. Her clit was so sensitive. More

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