.’ your mine tonight..’ she growled... rubbing softly. My open hips glistened .. as she grazed her finger slowly on my vagina.. entering.. my vag...na high. Twirling.. twirling deeply. I felt her finger glide slowly up my nipple and vagina.. entering my vagina.twirling.. rubbing hard? Giving me a dark massage caress between my legs.. her soft kiss on my vagina.. circled. Caressing my legs in darkness as I slept. Her toungue twirl in my vagina.. snuggling itself in me. Biting on my vagina... They also spelled out the grim truth. There were many ways to die in that desolate and violent place – Kalashnikovs, RPGs, roadside bombs all wielded or manufactured by turban-wearing tribesmen who would seem right at home in the Twelfth Century. Their dark-clad women, no more than chattel, hated the ‘Crusaders’ as much as their men. No one doubted the truth of Kipling’s words and no one wanted to be left behind, dead or alive.Matt doubted he was related to the British poet and author, although. More

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