In winter one can wrap in a thick blanket with a steaming, buttery rum and pass the night even as you watch the snow blow through the city.’ ‘I lo...e the poet that lives in you, Neral Jaye.’ She shook her head and sipped, ‘Poetry is best left to poets, Deres. I fight. The images matter to me as they remind me of what I fight for. They counter the fact that I also fight for the likes of them.’ She swallowed the rest of her drink quickly, a castle servant taking the glass away from her almost as. Becky went from fingering to rubbing her clit during the bombardment of cum on her and was soon on her way to orgasm as well. She started to move uncontrollably up and down, her leg which was still on top of mine kicking around. Becky let out a long loud moan that ended with a shutter of pleasure. As we both lay there our bodies were on fire from all the sexual heat between us, the smell of our juices combined with the sweat we were covered in. I looked over at Becky and she looked exhausted.. More

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