I moved to Sophia.“Don't move,” I told her as her bloody hands tried to pull the arrow out. “Don't do that.”“It hurts,” Sophia moaned, her...body thrashing. Her white robes absorbed the blood.“I know,” I said, my stomach clenching. “I need to pull it out,” she gasped. “Then I can heal myself.”“How?”Her left hand clutched a vial. She had a healing potion. Normally, it was a mistake to pull out an arrow. It would help to stop the bleeding until a surgeon or a priest could get to the wounded person.. And she spread her legs as I encircle my other arm around her neck and pull her in for a kiss. But not just a kiss, an attack with my mouth and tongue and she responds immediately, anxiously, with her own urgency and need. As we kiss, I pull her skirt up to her waist before returning my arm to hold her to me. My nearly bare breasts pressed into hers even though they are encased inside a blouse and bra. As my hand continues to work between her legs, she moans and sighs into my mouth. When I move. More

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