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WILLOWBUD Astrid was six-feet of Nordic perfection. Her statuesque frame was encased in tight-fitting leather armor that expanded at the immense protrusion of her bust, narrowed through the flat stretch of her abdomen, widened at her hips, cupped tightly to the supple form of her ass, and then narrowed into legs that went on forever. Her skin was pale with a touch of color, her hair was a cold-blonde braided intricately about her crown, and her eyes were steely blue. Her face was structured with high cheekbones, a cut jawline, a subtly-pronounced brow, and a pointed nose whose bridge drew seamlessly into her forehead. Her stoic portrait was decorated with lush, frowning lips, a thin scar that lined a taught cheek, and piercing eyes that seemed to stare with constant defiance from their shadowed sockets. And she thought I was the god! I know I’m pretty, I’m not an idiot, but this woman… this woman looked like a fucking marble statue. Like, this is the kind of broad you’d see carved into the bow of a warship. I felt like a violin solo should be constantly following this woman. Oh, and I forgot to mention, she had a set of fucking angel-wings that spanned seven feet in either direction. “What would you have of me, Your Holiness?” she asked, her annoying devotion brimming from her face. “Well, first thing,” I said, “is to call me by my name, Willowbud.” I held out a hand, and she looked at it for a moment, then got to one knee, bowed her head, and kissed my knuckle as though there was a ring there. I rolled my eyes. “Shake it, Astrid,” I groaned, “it’s not your mother’s cunt.” Astrid started in shock, and I grinned internally. I had spent my childhood aboard vessels with the foulest of sailors, in bars with dock workers, in brothels with whores, and the past year jumping from caravan to caravan. Needless to say, my vernacular was quite extensive. Astrid stood up, the sting of my words and the awe of my ‘divinity’ stretched across her pussy beautiful face. She shook my hand like a woman should, and I firmly shook hers back. “Good,” I said, pulling my hand from her grasp and looking over the horizon, “I need to get to the Tentigo Tropics, do you know where that is?” “Two day’s flight southeast from Iona,” she replied, pointing to the highest peak of the mountain range, “though I think I should take us there first, my people would-” “We can take supplies from that cart,” I interrupted, walking past her and sifting through the wreckage, “I don’t need any more worshipers, thank you very much.” I pulled out the orc’s provisions, and a length of rope that had been tied to the back of the cart. Astrid came next to me and searched through the supplies, until she found what she was looking for. A six-foot long, two-handed sword decorated with rubies on the cross-guard and engraved with intricate designs about the hilt. The blade itself, had been bent in half under the weight of the obsidian cube. She held the weapon with as much reverence as she had given me (an annoying amount), and then she bit back tears, and dropped it to the ground. Ah, shit, I thought as I placed my hand over the ruined blade, if she black was annoying before, she’s gonna be so much worse now. I righted the weapon before her eyes, and then sharpened it just for good measure. The whole act took less than a second; the blade springing back into place, and then shearing itself sharp in a spray of sparks. Astrid, predictably, porn dropped to her knees, and started another sermon. “Oh, Great Creator,” tits she said, her eyes welling in tears, her hands holding the sword aloft, “who hast re-forged the Blade of Iona, the heritage of my people, the-” “Astrid,” I said, placing a hand on her bowed head, “shut the fuck up. I’m not your god, I’m a person, and if you’re not going to treat me like one, then you can fly your Hardcore pretty ass back to Iona.” Thankfully, Astrid stopped her worship. The redhead hated our college's star futa-quarterback. "Maybe mom left it out", I suggested to myself. She pulls her bra off but manages to keep covered. “Tell you what how about a 3 some,” Geoffrey suggested, “You can do the front to begin with and change ends half way like the queers!” I loved kids and it must have shown as Hardcore Andrea and Ginny hugged and kissed me. I had just put them down to hug my sister and brother-in-law. "Yes Susan, I understand. JIMMY HUNG UP. porn Suddenly Susanna walked up and smacked the boys upside their heads. Chloe was so small compared to them, her head pussy at the black same level as their bountiful breasts. “I want you Ryan, I want you to be the one, I want you in me,” she whispered. does it feel... so good?” I smiled, stopped and moved my cock up to her mouth again still holding her ankles, stretching her legs and lifting her ass slightly. I wondered if I could slip my hand in her pants. I stood to the side of the tits window and slowly leaned to get a look into the room through the gap in the shutters.