She knew better than to get wet when it was going to be chilly later in the evening. Best to cool off now. She turned around at the sound of footsteps...behind her. "Howdy, Miss," a tall park ranger smiled as he tipped his hat to her, "Can I see your reservation?" My reservation," her eyebrows raised. "For a...campsite?" Yes, all of the sites here are reserved. There is an online system, but I don't see your name on the list anywhere. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You. As you entered a faint beam of sunlight shone through a small creak in the roof, seems one of the planks had a small gap. An odd smell filled your nose, a mixture of soup and metal, that of blood. You knew it was blood since your father had trained you in the way of the bow from a young age, and you had recently scored your first kill alone. It was a rabbit which you had nicked with an arrow in its side. Different thoughts filled your mind but you felt it was just your father skinning an. A bonus was that I could smell the fresh scent of her skin, headier than the fragrance of any perfume. When I reached to the keyboard to go back to an interesting shot our forearms brushed together. She didn’t pull away and seemed to like the sensation as much as me. That few seconds of contact made my head spin. Finally she got to a shot that was a self-portrait of her holding the camera toward her bathroom mirror. Even though it was innocent enough she quickly closed the viewer window. I did. A hand began to wander through my pubic hair, then another joined it. Both hands now moved down my thigh's, caressing them, then they moved to my butt. The breasts left my back as one hand moved between my legs, I reached behind me to pull her closer, but to no avail, she kept her distance as her hand now cupped my balls. Gently she squeezed them, rolling them around as she did, I moaned at her touch, I heard her laugh softly as her fingers began to touch my cock. Now both hands held me as the.
Read MoreHe Wolf with the Red Roses, by Chloe Tzang© 2017 Chloe Tzang. All rights reserved. The author asserts a moral right to be identified as the author of
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