beth smith

“That’s easy,” I replied. “You telegraph what feels good. I just do it again. You don’t exactly have a poker pussy. I love feeling you cum when I lick you.”

Edging a bit at a time, she moved as slowly as she dared, her pussy spasming and forcing her to stop an inch at a time. Sweat dripped off her face onto her father’s chest while her juices dripped down and soaked his bush. Finally, she had only his fat cockhead inside her while she squatted above him ready to make her dismount. But she was also at her limit, and she was unsure how much more teasing her poor pussy could take. Not wanting to risk it another moment, Sarah pushed against the bed with her heels and came up into a standing position over her dad. His cock popped out with a wet slurp as it flipped back to his stomach, and it tipped Sarah over the edge.

This bounty hunter had spent years doing his job, hunting down criminals like they were beasts and putting his life on the line time and time again, bereft of fear. He had heard plenty of threats before, plenty of warnings about what would happen if he continued his endeavors, and shrugged them off. That said, the man before him was projecting so much hatred, so much sadistic killing intent, that he felt a chill crawl up his spine, a chill he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before. It didn’t matter if the man before him was his target or not. He promptly turned and left, wanting to get as far away from the Knight’s Sheath and this rapacious lunatic as possible. Once he was gone, everyone in the bar applauded Noah’s performance, and he turned and bowed.