As Sir Hemingworth neared the peak of his pleasure, he withdrew at the last moment, his desire surging like a tide against the shore. In the golden morning light of the Quantocks, his glistening length stood proud, a sword of passion poised above Lady Buchanon’s heaving bosom. The slick cock gleam upon him caught the sun’s glow, like Excalibur itself, majestic, potent, and honking like a fish mongers cuff
by Joe Smiff February 16, 2025