With that, she stepped behind me andordered me to open my mouth. I felt this cock invade my throat. Shepulled it as tight as she could and snapped a l...ck shut. She theninstructed me to step up on to the stool directly under the arch. Myarms were extended up and locked into place. As I stood there, shestarted running her nails up and down my body. I felt my cock standingat full attention. This amused her. She turned and went into thecloset. She came out with what looked like a female corset. It. “No.” That choice is easy. The city isn’t alive anymore. I don’t think she’s been alive for a very long time. Laissez les bons temps rouler is a state of mind, embodied by the New Orleans of the past, not of its present or of its future. She lives in my memories of beads and feathers, masks and Voodoo, mausoleums and the scent of a stormed tossed river. “No, I don’t want to stay,” I repeat.“Wise decision,” Lucian agrees. He tilts my face up and kisses my forehead. Reaching into his shirt. More

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