There was a shout, and then a murmur of voices. “Hey Arena-scrapper, you think you can hoard all the prettiest ones to yourself?” The voice was th...ck, accented. It was a slave’s voice. A Xokothi’s. He was clearly addressing Wulfkar. Phaeka slowly withdrew her mouth, wiped away the pre-cum dangling at her lips, and turned around. What she saw made her stiffen. There were at least 14 men in the group that now approached. These were dark-skinned Xokothi, all with eyes of fierce intelligence. The. She began to wonder how sexually active her daughter might be. She would also try to sit across from Marcia as much as possible. Marcia's skirts were so short that it was not hard to get a peak at her tan nylon covered cunt. She could tell that Marcia never wore panties when she was wearing pantyhose. Sometimes she even thought that Marcia was actually flashing her a little bit. The images of making love to her daughter soon overcame the moral dilemma that Carol was having. The strong sexual. More

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