FREYA
“Now you’ve gotten what you want, can you show me the way to the dinner room?” I asked him, while he lay on the couch, breathing slowly.
I looked him in the face with a weak smile, the smile of a fellow who had a fair toll of a p***y he had long dreamt to shove his d**k into and c*m bastards into it.
“Not so fast, Freya.” He uttered and stood up. He had not worn his pants, so, his d**k whose cap was still wet of semen and the juices of my p***y, coupled with the saliva that came with him shoving it into my mouth, was dangling between his thigh as he walked to where he harled his pants at.
“I have dinner for us both. You would like it.” he said and picked his pants.
At this juncture, I couldn’t tell any longer if he was a guard or something other than being a guard in the mansion
