Stacy spread her knees wider as her son disappeared under the table. She pulled her skirt up as she felt his hot breath on her bald wet pussy. Scootin... her hips forward she felt her son’s shoulders pressing against her inner thighs. The sensation of a wet tongue running the length of her labia sent shivers running her through her. Stacy moaned when her son’s lips closed around her hardened clit. She ran her hands up the length of her body under her blouse. Stacy pushed her bra up and off her. As she goes I slide her panties over her hips, down her thighs. Her hair spreads over the center of the bed, scattered like a fan of tangled silk threads. I stand and take in the view: the valley of her breasts, the supple dip of her belly, the rhythm of her quickened breath. I want to tell her thank you for this moment, her trust, but know that in this country it would seem strange. I crook her legs with my hands, smooth and silky, and lift them over my shoulders. The scent of her sex, tangy. The volume of powerful works in the inner recesses of the library stunned her. There were spells here long thought lost to the ages, spells that were exclusive creations of great wizards, and dozens of original spells created within these very walls — many of them by Zoraster himself.The discovery of an entire volume dedicated to spells either discovered or created by Darkniciad surprised Danica. She knew they were such, because she had spoken with her sister Devan about many of them. Most of. Everyone was there. Butterflies danced madly in her stomach, her gown her mother’s, her hair in a coiffure of bluebells and light from the delicate things woven into it, her arm wrapped in her fathers, her eyes locked on the one whom she would promise forever to. Saying yes, kissing, the reception, the gifts, the dancing, her Daddy’s tears of joy and wistfulness, that night… oh that night… She was 26 years old. The doctor was their, her husband, her family, soon she would give birth to the.