The indulgent and promiscuous times were long yet fleeting.
Bringing the Witch to climax was no difficult task, thrusting with a shattered, dripping body and pouring out semen, ultimately more than once.
The mixed gasps and cries of men and women, moaning and begging, rising and falling in pitch. In the latter half of the night, the sound of water drizzling in the washroom finally ceased, and Sebatide Hughes, haphazardly holding the sleeping Roy with a bath towel, stepped out and came face to face with Rocky.
"Give her to me." Rocky explained calmly, "You don't know where the lounge is."
Confronting the Devil, he showed no trace of disgust or fear. His tone was neither servile nor overbearing, his gaze calm and undisturbed. Sebatide Hughes clicked his tongue, swallowed the reproach about to escape his lips, and handed over the Witch in his arms.
