It is yours. My pants, slightly tattered, hung on a twig which I snapped off to use as a writing utensil. Black porn The stallion stayed behind me, never moving a muscle, breathing all the same down my neck, warming the chills I must have had. So this, the rider as I assumed, did exist. And a whisper, soothing, still. I just lay back and thrust. A black boot, high up the wearer’s thigh, stepped onto the log I sat on to my right. This was land seldom explored, for it belonged to the Rider. Only the stallion, the Phantom Stallion, has any grip on legend. Ride it shall and seek to find all the lost souls. Then deeper and harder I thrust until I could see no more of my pride. She began to lick each one individually, lusting over me. BEWARE! My nipples, so sensitive, teased. Her hands ran down my sweating body as she begged for more. I, too, covered myself, and rode off with her.
