He was, truthfully, rather gaunt. His appearance was by no means enhanced by his tight English breeches, too large woolen peasant shirt and the dirt a...d grime that were all about his person. Rumour had it, abundant as always in war, that the lad was really of MacAllister blood and not as low born as his appearance would dictate. Having myself never talked to the little urchin, I could neither confirm nor deny any such tale. Truthfully, he was rarely in camp since he was the best spy we had. But first, he wanted to see Anthony's semen dripping along the petite lips of her pussy. It was glossy and white looking somewhat like egg whites. It was sticky to the touch and delicate, forming stretchy threads as he pulled his finger away from his wife's pussy lips with a dab of another man's semen on its tip. It had a slightly musky aroma - Roger thought he smelled a slight note of cigar smoke as he came in for a closer look. His wife reached down toward her pussy lips to separate them. More

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