He was being fucked by the black bull field slave with the muscular body of a god, Demonde, on the riverbank. It was the discussed image of the attrib...tes of Demonde that Sydney and I often stroked ourselves off to during our fishing trips to the river. Demonde lived apart from the other slaves in a clearing in a mangrove patch. He was a man apart, not only in magnificent body but also in social interaction. Sydney had whispered that he was sure the hunky slave was a priest of Obedie.At the. When Michael finally lifted her skirt and replaced his hand with his cock, however, she gave up.“Oh GOD,” she cried out. The demon cock was lightly rubbing up and down her slit; teasing her, occasionally parting her lips slightly, but never giving her the penetration she so desperately craved.“Shhh,” he replied with a grin, but Nicolette didn’t care. So what if someone caught them? She was with a demon, so it wasn’t like she was in any danger from a mere mortal ... and a part of her wanted. You make me laugh and make me feel completely relaxed. And then you take my hand in yours, bring it to your mouth, draw my fingers past your nostrils, slowly, to inhale my scent from them, then turn my palm toward your lips and kiss the inner skin of my palm in an unhurried, roaming, sucking kiss that takes my breath away and leaves me panting, at which point you look me directly in the eyes again and murmur something about why don’t I let you help me with the little problem I was having, and. I assured her that I was. As I opened the door for her to get in my car, she leaned in and gave me a kiss. At the same time I put my hand on the small of her back and could feel the thong under her shorts. At that stage of my life (well, I guess they still are), thongs were about the sexiest thing. The girls I went to high school with didn't wear them too often. I had played it cool all night (being a cocky 19 year-old), but I almost lost it. She had looked so good all night and then knowing.