Emmy read the move with ease and repositioned her spear accordingly. He ran straight onto it, his war cry instantly choking out as the spear punched ...hrough his chest.Emmy had no time to savor her victory. A wiry man with a dark mane was almost on top of her. Her first victim held tightly to the spear stuck in his chest as he fell, a look of horror on his face. Emmy couldn't spare the time to extract the spear, so she released it and drew her knife.He came at her and slashed down with his. I battered it out of the sky with my sickle as he charged in behind it. I didn’t flinch in shock like last time. I could see it in his blue eyes as he thrust his blade that he knew his ruse had failed. My chain lashed out for his feet.He tried to jump.Instead, he tripped himself. His legs, weighted down by exhaustion, didn’t move as spry as before. The chain caught him as he struggled to hold his balance. It smacked into his calves. He cried out as it swept his feet out from beneath him.Sven. "They'd talked about that. Did it matter? She decided it did. It meant that every man who smiled at her tomorrow, every eye that followed her, might be remembering the way her nipples tasted, how her mouth felt on his cock. In the long run, isn't not knowing more ... interesting?She shuddered a little. "Are any of them black?"He smiled. "With the blindfold, as many as you like." Oh, yes, he knew her well. She accepted a fresh scarf, and with it the continuation of fantasy.The seven were growing. His manhood still throbbed in her channel and his erection showed tentative signs of renewed interest, but he knew with absolute surety that he was finished. Drained. Emptied.The dreams into which he soon fell were restless and relentless, featuring increasingly lurid couplings interrupted by abrupt disappearances right in the midst of their pleasure. Over and over he searched for her, horny and desperate, yet always in vain.Struggling through layers of lethargy and languor, he opened his eyes..