Her hair, too, was still quite damp, the dark curls pressed against her skin were as disheveled as she should feel at the moment. But somehow, despite...her confusion, the warm afterglow prevented any feelings of anxiety to seep into her mind. She just felt too good for that.After a long, languorous stretch, she sat up in her bed and tried to make sense of how she had gotten back to the camp. The dim light of dawn was slipping in through the bottom of the tent, so she knew that some time had. Her fingers traced arabesques up and down the shaft, and her nails scratched my balls lightly. Four glasses of wine were slowing me down and I muttered a silent prayer of thanks. My cock was at half stand and as she slid her hand along it I felt it growing and the foreskin beginning to retract. I moved my tongue over the curve of her breast, into the soft valley of her cleavage, and carried on south.From close up the diamond in her navel looked real. I ran my tongue round the knotted dimple,. More

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