The kind of thump that usually meant heavy boots upon stone. Another thump. And another. The sunlight entering the cavern was cut off as the figures descended the stairs, blocking its path and filling the hall with long, looming shadows. Three shadows. Three sets of footsteps upon the stone. Three figures filed into the cavern, two cloaked with heavy capes and hoods and one a dark shadow. Steam rose from their flaming torches as they wandered over to a raised dais and pool of frozen water. Like Cloudberry had found before them, the cavern was warmer than the outside. The tallest among them was the first to shuck off their massive, fur-lined cape, revealing veiny green skin and well-defined muscles. An orc male, he wore his hair long and loose down his back. Glittering golden caps covered his tusks, one broken near the base and the other curling up and over his cheek. A braided beard covered his jaw. His green skin was only broken by the crisscross of scars over his torso. Spear wounds, knife wounds, burns and magic blasts; all healed over time. More than could be said of those who attacked him. “Khargosh dear, check for traps.” The orc nodded and surveyed the nearest wall of ice. “Enora, I trust you know what we’re looking for.” The second figure inclined her head stiffly, a tall drow woman carrying a book that looked quite similar to Cloudberry’s, which now lay on the floor by her feet gathering ice crystals. Her eyes were a deep crimson, almost completely black and they seemed to mock anything she looked at. Her mouth was a cruel, thin line that did hard fuck not smile for any reason. Her outfit was a black leather ensemble, all straps and harness and barely any skin coverage. Drow had no need to fear the cold, and her lithe legs with skin the colour of crushed grapes were open to the elements. Her hips were narrow, giving her a wispy and feminine silhouette. Short white hair cascaded down one side of her face, the other side an undercut. On her chest she wore the stockings insignia of the drow Queen’s personal executioner guild. An assassin. As she flipped through the book with deft fingers it became clear that some of the pages were unreadable, covered in the blood of its previous owner. The commands came from the black hair third figure, slightly smaller than the others, and plumper. Two twisted dark horns snaked out from beneath their hood and over their head, large rough fuck enough to show that this Brunette must be a tiefling with many years behind them. They marched up to the dais with the statue of Cloudberry and the ornate throne, throwing off their black velvet cape and mature revealing a long train of thick dark hair, trailing behind them on the floor. Unlike the stoic and beanpole-like Enora, this tiefling rogue was a riot of sarcastic smiles and insolent curves. I didn’t say anything to Michelle about it but did worry for the next few days. “I like that Brunette idea but my mom is gonna be there with us” We caught each other’s eye for a second before we both looked away. hard fuck An open skirt was pulled up her thighs until it was snug around the waist, the loose pleats of white diaphanous fabric hung to the midpoint of her thigh. I have to respect her endurance. Realistically, what I rough fuck had done was easily explainable. How many do you have?”. I took a deep breath and reached in and took them from his hand, my shirt opening up for one last show. This somehow got through my screening process, and I didn’t think Amanda mature wanted to see something like this. I wasn’t really sure why. Now listen, I may not have stockings the slightest clue as to what you have been through. “Oww, that’s painful granddad.” This will be my fourth time peeing since this morning, all water because I thought I needed to be hydrated. Her heels buried themself into the back of my upper legs as her body started to shake. It was like she knew exactly what to do when. I sucked him in until he pressed on my throat. I just nodded. I didn’t care if George’s fantasy was only a fantasy. black hair