My second book 2004-  

MastrandSlav 43M/48F
93 posts
7/10/2006 5:33 pm
My second book 2004-

The day had broken and all those studious folks were well on their way to their dull jobs in the heart of the city or in the fields surrounding it. Night crawlers and whores will still snoring loudly wherever they ended up. In a city as rough as Roc’s Fall some had reached their resting spot never wake again but whores and thugs were never missed by anyone who mattered.
Jasmine’s yawn awoke her slumber. It was a hearty yawn that sucked a fistful of the pillowed mattress into her mouth. She sputtered and rolled to her back, letting her slowly reviving breasts to jiggle to life in the shaft of sun cutting into the ample bedroom. The two moons wandering back from the depths of slavery and debauchery had sapped her sculpted frame of all its attractive fat and she had looked more like a elf stumbling to the gates of Roc’s Fall instead of the incredible warrior she had the reputation to be. Jhatison, the redheaded youth, had saved her in the swaying sea of the forest and in the gloomy hell of the cellar but she had repaid him gratuitously with her new found lust for the male form. Since returning to the city on the threshold of the mountains she had tried to turn her wiles on other men but had almost thankfully discovered her departure from sole interest in the female body was limited only to her savior.
Jhatison. Oh her chiseled god with the deep intellectual eyes and stamina of an unbridled stallion. She rolled over on to her side and sighed with the sight of nirvana in the folds of the expansive bed. He still wore the reddish beard on his face, a fitting badge of a city guardsman. She felt a sorrow at his rejection at the hands of the coach guild and the following rebuttal of the Silken Veil, had she hurt his fragile male pride by accepting the job with the brothel. A job which had been promised to him to fill at any time but made out of reach by his dropping out of favor of the guild that had silent owners in the Silken Veil. He was a good guardsman and she hoped she was correct in thinking he enjoyed his new occupation.
He had rebounded quicker from near starvation then she had and his broad shoulders now bore taunt, sinewy muscle. His chest had expanded beyond its original dimensions but he had not lost his sleek, hunting cat like stature. She held her tongue in check but her lips had instantly become dry. Her eyes continued down past his flat stomach and his hairy belly button.
His marvelous cock rested on his thigh like a pregnant snake, charming her eyes to a rapid halt. Her tongue flashed out involuntarily and ran across her smile to make it glisten in the light. She could almost taste his salt residue on her broad tongue, his excited essence running across her taste buds and mixing with her saliva. Her lips quivered as her mind painted a portrait of her mouth wrapping around him, his mushroom shaped gland surrendering to the moist depths of her mouth. She knew how to stroke his shaft to make it stand tall and proud like a knight’s imposing lance. She knew how to tickle a purr from his agape mouth with a gentle scratch on the bottom of his heavy sack.
Jasmine crept around on the imported sheets, careful not to rouse him from his well-earned dreams. She moved her mouth along his body but did not touch. Her tongue darted from its cave but did not strike his flesh. She hovered over his pelvis, her kinky hair would not fall and awaken her victim. Jasmine lowered down, ready to suck his massive penis into her mouth.
Jasmine stopped.
She tilted her head slowly and looked across her savior, her trophy of a man. With her mouth wide, she stared into the eyes of the owner of the bed, owner of the posh apartment on the edge of the mercantile district. The beautiful blue eyes were half cloaked in incredibly heavy lash and a threatening smirk. Jasmine looked back to the heavy cock then back to the unsmiling but earthly handsome face of her prize’s guardian. She lowered her own eyebrow in a menacing challenge, a growl was the only thing missing to mark this as the most primal of confrontations. Her hands balled into angry fists on her side of Jhatison but her competition did not move, not even to blink.
Jhatison coughed loudly and flopped over on to his stomach, still deep in a dream of mountains and endless snow. Jasmine backed away dragging one of the sheets to shield her naked body from those piercing eyes. This was far from over but she had to tinkle.
Phora Sprinbook was equally gentle in lifting her tall, hippy frame from the mattress. She also had to tinkle but would shower her downstairs neighbor’s flowers with urine before sharing a chamber pot with the curly headed bitch.

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