Cunnilingus for Caroline
Gripping Caroline’s muscular arms, you raise her to her feet and boldly dip her over your arm, trailing your delicate hand down the zipper of her silver suit in suggestive fashion.
“Princess,” she whispers. “I have so long admired you from afar. Please, remove my suit and have your way with me!”
A thrill goes through you, and you turn to Harmony, wondering if she might direct you both to a more private location, but the diva has already tactfully slipped out into the main room. Through the just-open door, you can hear her beautiful voice; her intent, obviously, is to provide a stirring soundtrack to inspire your lovemaking to extraordinary new heights of pleasure. Indeed, as you listen to her song, you believe all things might be possible!
Stanno facendolo che
Stanno facendolo
Nella mia camera da letto
Quello è buono
Mi toccherò
“O, Caroline,” you say, removing her space suit by means of its zipper and tenderly caressing the small breasts thus revealed. “I have heard of the Silver Marauder, and long admired your dashing exploits. Indeed, as you may have heard, my brother-in-law, Francoque Gallo, was once a pirate himself, along with his twin sister, Mica’elle.”
“My darling,” Caroline moans. “I could listen to you discourse upon your family history for hours, and yet at this very moment I fear I am compelled to implore that you stop my mouth with your kisses.”
You obey with celerity, lowering Caroline to the floor and covering her lips with kisses of a roaring heat like that of the heart of a star, except less injurious to mortal flesh, which would actually be incinerated long before it reached the temperatures that fuse hydrogen atoms together. Caroline’s hands, quick and strong after hours of zathwop bladearm practice, are busily removing your space pyjamas, when a delightful thought occurs to you. Perhaps your mouth may be better employed upon another part of her exquisite anatomy!
Accordingly, you reverse your position and kneel so that your tawny curls fall to brush the straight black hair at the junction of her thighs, even as her own mouth rises to sup at your succulent honeypot.
“Mm!” you mm, and then lap eagerly at the pinkish crevices of womanly flesh which swell under your eager attention. You pay particular attention to the flesh-nub that proudly stands above the entrance to her pleasure cave, increasing the pressure of your strokes as Caroline’s muscular tongue arouses a feeling in you like that of a thunderstorm about to strike, only one that will not electrocute her.
As the storm breaks over you in shining waves of metaphorical rain, you both writhe and cry out simultaneously. What a happy coincidence!
“May I re-enter?” Harmony inquires from the door, somewhat breathlessly. You smile, rolling away from Caroline’s love-exhausted form to gather up your discarded clothing.
“Please do,” you reply. “Perhaps I shall return… very shortly.”
“Princess,” Caroline smirks. “I will pray you do!”
Languidly, you dress once more in your space-pyjamas, and step out into the hall. But the corridor is not empty! It is occupied by a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose pale skin is set off by his dark, curling hair, his dark, tidy goatee, his dark, silken eyepatch and his dark, smouldering eye.
“Thank Proet!” he says fervently. “There’s no time to explain! Come with me at once!”
A strange and officious command! Will you obey?
1) Certainly not! You are a princess! People obey YOU.
2) Curious about what could possibly be so important, you follow him.
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