“And now, Husband,” smirked Pon patiently, looking up from the musky temptation of curl-wreathed pink flesh, “you must make your thing big—" Crookedly she eyed his comfortable plight, an organ standing engorged and purple-headed and oozing. “Oh, but I see great Kalesh knows this already…”
Shuddering faintly, Kalesh rose, and he removed his heavy sword, and with his eyes never leaving what Pon showed him, he untied his belt and lowered his loincloth and pouches to the ground. Clad only in his bluely gleaming golden armlet, which felt as a part of him, he came over as if in a daze, and he sank to his knees between the drawn-up ankles of the creature who had haunted his secret thoughts for so, so long. This is what had made her do it, he knew dimly. Yes, her mouth had wished for all the c***
