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Someone opened the gate and he stumbled through. The gate slammed behind him, but he knew it would only be a matter of minutes before it was broken through, or burned. There was no one left to defend and protect him.“Vladimir!” a female voice cried out. His wife raced down the precarious steps as though she was running on flat ground, mindless of the fact that she could fall and break a limb.“Elsa!” he gasped, falling and picking himself up again. “We must flee! Radu will be here in moments.” A loud striking sound came from the gate to emphasize his words.“Come, my love!” Elsa cried, half dragging him into the darkened main hall. They were alone – the last of his loyal men gone to defend the failing gate and the walls. Elsa pressed herself against him, lust radiating through her body and igniting lust in his. Danger and the threat of painful death always filled her with need. The fact that they would both most likely die this next hour made it that much more exciting.“Quickly, take. .back to my pussy...as I rubbed the towel against my pussy walls...as I was noticing that the more I dried my pussy...the wetter it got...the more I dried my clit...the harder it got... when my doorbell ranged. It was my lover arriving for his daily session of hot, wet, sticky, passionate sex.I led him to my love nest where handcuffs, blindfolds, feathers, whips, strawberries, frozen g****s and pornos were part of the norm...As my lover walked behind me...his hands were caressing my ass...I stopped before jumping onto the bed giving him one of the most passionate kisses that he's ever received...our kisses were so passionate that they caused my heart to jump each time that he kissed me...our kisses were so passionate that they caused my pussyjuices to flow without any attention given to my clit...as we kissed...I could feel his dick getting rock hard against my leg...I reach down and rubbed his dick...stroking it up and down...his dick was so hard that I could feel his veins through.
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He set the timer for five minutes. When it rang again, he turned off the stove. “Dinner is served,” he said in his best fake- British accent.“Mmm,” she said when she’d washed and sat down, “I think I’ll keep him.”“You have been keeping me,” he pointed out. “I can pay rent now, though. We’ll settle up after dinner.”They did. “And how much did your groceries cost?” she asked. “I’ll subtract that.”“My treat. I decided. I didn’t consult you, and I won’t make you put it in your food budget. I don’t plan to do this often enough to make a dent.”“Still, it was sweet of you.”“Then let me be completely sweet.” He washed the dishes by himself.It was dismal out -- cool with dripping rain alternating with downpours. Neither suggested that they go out. She did some chores, and he got three solid hours in on his field notes. When she went into the bathroom, he took the last page out of the typewriter. He had his piles of paper back in order when she came out and slipped rapidly into bed. He’d.

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