Kissing Thorolf was one of life’s wonders. His hands knew their business, as did his tongue. His piercings only served to make him more intriguing. ...‘Okay, you got to watch, now it’s my turn,’ I whispered in his ear, catching his lobe between my teeth for a moment before letting go. Hearing him groan as I skittered backwards onto sleeping bags, blankets, and out of my pants, I turned to watch, and was surprised to find him already advancing on me, his kilt, cloak and sandals already on the. I let out a soft moan as his bulging dick, straining against his pants, pressed against my clit with every thrust of his hips. As I ran my hands along his sides, finally grasping his gyrating hips, his hand released my hair and slid along the side of my face. My lover stood before me with a look of passion so intense that he seemed wild with the sweet pain it was inflicting. Suddenly he turned from me, but his hand still cupping my behind, guided me to the remote corner where he had been only. More

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