She woke me by searching for something to wear. Miss bloody Twelvetrees. “Calm yourself sir,” Miss Twelvetrees whispered. “Let me go!” she protested from beneath the mound of clothing thrown over her head. I was tired of her complaining so I wrenched the whole mass of fabric high over her head to reveal her tear streaked face. “Let me go!” she protested from beneath the mound of clothing thrown over her head. Suddenly everything went dark. Damn it, I’ve had more wenches than I can remember. I had her pantaloons off and her slippers and as I reluctantly released her teat I eased my now rampant member within her slot. She released my member, tucked him under my shirt and fastened my trousers so I fouled my shirt and my under pants as I expelled. She floundered for the moment I needed to scoop up her gown from the hem and bared her chest but for her underthings which I rapidly tore open. But why would I? Before I knew it my member was twitching, the moment was on me and do you know what that bitch did? She trailed a finger down my arm, “Lovely smooth skin like a baby!” she laughed.
