His pot helm protected his head, but not his neck and the shape struck for that spot. It was a well-aimed and well-delivered blow, with almost surgica... precision. The guard slumped against the low wall and slid down. The hooded figure looked about quickly, then silently glided across the rooftop of the tower, heading toward the little hut in the center of the roof. The shape slid through the doorway and into the little room, a set of spiral stairs, a flickering torch lit the staircase with. I was crying out in incoherent moans and grunts. It was as though I was speaking in tongues. The sounds emanating from my core were incomprehensible. I knew he was preparing to erupt as well. I was being fucked violently and powerfully. Don was driving my ass into the mattress, and my head into the head board with each punishing stroke. I had to reach up behind me with both arms to brace myself against the head board to keep from banging my head with each powerful thrust. I was literally. More

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