Kissing

Her black flowing hair provided a stark contrast to her light brown great coat. Her steely blue eyes hid a fragile side to her. When she wanted, her e...es would reveal her fragile side. She always wore thigh high leather boots with high heels, which were thought of as daemon's shoes by some folk. Slowly she rode her horse, Elsa, through the winding thoroughfare of the squalid section of London. She knew these streets; she had hunted many witches and foul abominations through these streets. She. Nearly every waking hour was spent hyperaware of her own body, spent trying to ignore how desperately her throbbing pussy ached for even the slightest touch, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t completely hide her arousal. Her body wanted to fidget and squirm under the hot tension constantly thrumming through her body, and she was continually stopping her hands from wandering down towards her sex and nipples, even in public. People at work could tell she was distracted, though not. More

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