“Hi, Ben.”“What’s up, sis?”“Did Tess say anything to you this afternoon?”“Tess? No ... She was looking for you. That’s all.”“Oh,...okay.”“Why do you ask?”“Oh, nothing. She was just being ... you know. Forget I even asked.”“Okay. Whatever.”“Thanks, bro.”She walked back to the door. Before she could leave, I called her name.She turned around. “Yeah?”“Buttercup.” I said.She looked at me, and then her eyes glassed over and her muscles relaxed.“Yes, master?”“Lock the door.”My heart skipped a beat as. The spoken language was a mix of several different languages, or more precisely, the trade patois of several of them blended together. A few of these included words from languages I knew to be very, very old. Not so old as Old Cunish perhaps, but old enough and potent enough. The combinations their trade tongue created were — interesting.The two riders were very quickly twelve, as more riders began to appear out of the heat of the midday sun. We were close to being surrounded. The way they. ."She sat up and held my eyes as her hips writhed on my cock. Her tits wiggled sexily as the stiff nipples and taut belly painted an incredibly sexy picture. I covered her melons with my hands, feeling the full yet soft flesh, and she pushed her chest against my palms. But rather quickly, she began to arch forward, her hips sped up, and she muttered "It's starting already darling, I can't hold it back, I don't want to, you don't have to cum If you don't want... oh its so lovely Ham, I'm so. She was walking a little weird like she was holding pee and needed to go badly and I figured it was from her little exercise she had, and she was a little flushed. I could also tell she hadn't been expecting me home for another hour as the clothes she was wearing were still damp as her shirt was sticking to her well rounded 36c cup breast and that it was pretty transparent and you could see the pink of her nipples. “Hey Stace, you’re home early.” Sheryl said. “Yeah, I had all my work.