With a start, she realized that her frill was standing up, flushed a shade of embarrassed red. She hastily pushed it back down around her neck with he... hands, glad that nobody could see her. Was she really more afraid of being caught peeking than being roasted alive by an angry battlemage? What was wrong with her?Turning her mind back to her mission, she continued her observations, watching him withdraw an item from his pack. It was a piece of parchment rolled up in a tube. Could it be a map?. Amisha cried out “Yes” every time, and it felt like his cockhead was tapping the bottom of her lungs. She was so wet and shocked she could take him, working her hips by his lead and squeezing him with her thighs as he fucked her. His hands moved up her body and groped her breasts. As her hard nipples rubbed his palms, he groaned, “Your breasts. Oh my God, your breasts, Amisha.” Both her hands gripped her headboard. “You like my big, Indian tits?” She wanted to sounds sexy but thought she. More

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