He reached out and seized my hand. His thumb rubbed across my hand. “Calloused by strife. Why do you wear this mummers farce.”“My dress?”“Yo... wear it with discontent. That and the paint smeared on your face.” His hands moved to my skirt. “These restrict you. Keep you from moving. From fighting and fucking.” His powerful arms yanked down. The expensive fabric ripped and the metal harness tore off of me. It fell to a mangled pile about my feet, leaving me bare from the waist down. His hands slid. " In some ways he was jealous, but the amount of trouble his friend's over-sized and over-used dick kept him in, made any real jealousy fade quickly. Matilda paused the projection and spoke again, "The story about Paul's cock spread far and wide, it didn't seem to matter to him because he kept chopping down trees and screwing every woman that wanted him, regardless of any relationship she might be in the middle of. It was almost funny because the guys, be they husbands, fathers, or boyfriends. More

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