Africa - Cover

Africa

Copyright© 2014 by Maxicue

Chapter 5

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Nick via his tales brings Joe and Lindy to ancient southern Africa, siring Salome. Joe and Helena enjoy their honeymoon, ending it by joining Nick's contingent in Paris. Though I recommend reading the previous Serpent Tales, I have provided a summation of the earlier books.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Consensual   BiSexual   Incest   Sister   DomSub   Group Sex   Interracial   First  

As Helena predicted, Snake allowed us little sleep. I awoke to the pretty stewardess bringing in a cart, her eyes somewhat distracted by the perfectly sexy nudity of Eva, who must have opened the door to her knock. Eva giggled, brought the stewardess's hand to her breast, helped her caress it while kissing her most fervently. After guiding her to the other breast, Eva ended the kiss. "We'll take it from here," she said with her usual spunk which made the dismissal easier to take, though I could see the disappointment in the lovely woman's face as she glanced from sexy Eva, across the full bed, lingering surprisingly on me. She shrugged and winked at me and slunk provocatively out of the stateroom, closing the door securely behind her.

"She'd have been fun," Eva said to me.

"Probably," I chuckled. Realizing I didn't feel all that rested, I asked her "What the fuck time is it?"

"How the fuck should I know?" she replied, opening her arms, making it clear nothing adorned her body, including no watch.

"6," said Lindy.

The San Francisco contingent laughed, mine within a groan.

"What's so funny?" asked my sister, waking up from Eva's and my conversation, looking as beautiful as I had ever seen her despite wild hair and barely opened eyes.

"Lindy has an inner clock," Miwa explained as she emerged from the bed, her lithe, petite body always a wonderful thing to see, and helped Eva set up breakfast. "It's set for 6 am."

"God, I can barely wake to a blaring clock radio," my sister confessed.

"It is fucking loud," said her lover, Albert.

"Sorry," she responded.

"Don't be. It gets me up, and once I get it silenced, my blood's surging."

"I notice," my sister giggled and kissed him lightly, her hand making an obvious movement south under the blanket where an impressive hill had formed. After a probable squeeze, she let go and settled back. "I need more sleep," she murmured.

"Then sleep," Eva told her with a loving smile. "We'll keep quiet." She chuckled when she realized my sister no longer heard her. Albert soon followed my sister into obliviousness.

As promised, we spoke little while we ate delicious omelets and sipped delicious coffee. Of course, Snake only ordered meals for those of us meant to head to the borrowed mansion for more of his tales.

Realizing I probably wouldn't see my sister before departing for Greece that night, I decided to write her a note.

"Tell her to call you just after noon," my wife advised me. "We'll be taking a break."

"But I thought Nick wanted it to be continuous or something," I replied. "Eating wouldn't interrupt us."

Helena shrugged. I nodded. I knew my sister and I needed to talk after the momentous if all too brief incest. It seemed Nick knew it too, and would accommodate us.

As soon as I finished the note, Nick arrived, encouraged us to shower and get ready as swiftly as possible, and left us to it.

Appropriate to a suite with an orgy designed bed, the shower had room for three. Eva and Helena and I took advantage of it, but kept our hands to mostly just cleaning intimate parts of each other. I still managed to get hard. Who wouldn't with two incredible women rubbing against you and rubbing you? The women teamed up to suck me to completion, sharing my spend. The double teaming definitely helped hurry my release. They both batted my hands away when I attempted to reciprocate. "We need to free up the shower for Miwa and Lindy," Helena explained. "I'm sure you'll take care of both of us soon enough. Daddy wants to get started as soon as possible."

And as usual, when Nick's tale got hot, my ladies received the pleasure they so richly deserved. Not that I was being unselfish about it. They gave just as much as they received.


Nick began as soon as everyone settled into their spots. Lindy and I settled on a couch with room between us for Eva to sit, mostly leaning against me, while Miwa and Helena sat between our legs on the Persian carpet and Naomi sat on a stuffed, armless chair so we mortals could observe her drawings. We all wore the minimum clothing, me in my boxers while the ladies wore chemises or sexy nighties and nothing else. Only Nick dressed completely in his usual black denim.

"By the time the sun lit the sky," Nick started, "the dawn colors just dissolving, the entourage had finished their brief and tearful goodbyes to their families."

"Entourage?" asked Lindy.

"There were several of us," Salomé explained. "Remember, this wasn't just about me and my first venture as muse. This was an important trading venture, the largest and most expansive in... :

"Ever, actually," Nick finished. "We would be travelling farther than any of the tribe had gone before. We were loaded down with trade items and nearly a dozen of our men bearing the weight."

"Along with half a dozen of our ... well ... whores," Salomé added.

"The more Semitic looking women?" I asked.

"Pure Semitic actually," Nick replied. "They were the most exotic and had a widespread reputation."

"Wouldn't mixed ones," I asked, "especially those directly from your seed, have the most ... uhm ... I mean the strongest minionship I guess."

"Coining words are we?" Nick chuckled. "I know what you mean. It's true there was some distance in their line to my blood, but remember dear Rebecca. Her line came from Ruth's sister, Hannah, and it had a resilient power to it. Every three or four generations I managed to visit the area, specifically to enhance that line of particularly strong willed Jewesses."

"Impregnating lesbians?" Lindy guessed.

"Pretty much," Nick grinned. "It helped with their bearding, and they had their husbands enjoy mistresses and impregnate them. The mistresses were bisexual of course. Sometimes the descendants of Ruth were bisexual too. There was still an extensive line between Rebecca and my last visit, because of my concentrating on my little Greek Island for a hundred years of so. Anyway, though they had my presence within them, these concubines or whores or whatever weren't chosen for that."

"It's who they were traded for," Lindy figured out.

"Yep. I would fuck some of the women of the tribe and leave them there, usually widows. But our Jewesses were expensive, and we often got, along with more items for future trades or to be sent back to our tribe to enrich them, a young woman, sometimes not even yet a woman who would achieve their menarche during our travels and I would impregnate them after a year or so. I liked my seed to sprout in a woman with at least a little maturity."

"And then what happened to them?" asked Lindy suspiciously.

"It depended."

"On what?"

"Let's begin the tale and you'll see," he told her.


"Wow," says Salomé to her lover, "you really are sensitive."

"Sorry," Sam sniffles. "It's just that I never realized how much I'll miss Mom and Dad and my sister. With the size of the entourage, I have a feeling I might not see them for quite a while if ever. I know Nick disappears for a year or two at a time. I have a feeling it will be even longer. Just look at how many whores he has brought with us."

"Don't look too hard at them," Salomé responds half joking.

"You know I only have eyes for you, my love," he replies with a sniffling chuckle.

"I don't know about that," Salomé grins slyly. "You can't seem to escape the vision of Ben's tight bum. To tell you the truth, it is quite nice."

"Mmm," is Sam's response of agreement, bringing chuckles to both of them and lightening his heart.

Nick's trading entourage have traveled for hours by the time of the conversation. They near the edge of the savannah. Verdant hills rise before their eyes. They approach a line of trees, like the hem of the green dress that covers those hills. It marks the border of the tribe's territory, and is as good a place to stop for lunch as any.

Though Nick has chosen to begin Salomé's first adventure in the cooling air of the Southern Hemisphere's late Fall, in what would be June in the English language a Millennium later, the sun still carries some heat. Food will do them good, and water especially.

As if their need has been answered by God, when they reach the trees, they are greeted by a small group from another tribe bearing gourds of water. "Minions," Salomé thinks, and when an older, darker, thicker man and then a regal looking beauty who combines a hint of her tribe with the jungle tribes' features, and the best of them, hug Nick, her thought becomes confirmed.

After Nick introduces his granddaughter and her lover to the chieftain and his "daughter," though step-daughter more likely, Sam becomes unusually animated, talking to the daughter in her tribe's different language, one which Salomé cannot understand. She finds this rude, and wishes she didn't, because Sam enjoys it as much as she has seen him enjoy anything except maybe their recent intimacy.

"Salomé," she hears behind her, Nick's voice sounding a little scolding. Despite the scold, she takes comfort in his hands embracing her tummy and his lips near her ear as he kneels behind her.

"I know," she exhales within a sigh. "I shouldn't be jealous."

"More envious I think," Nick says. "He's having fun, and for the first time with him, you're excluded. You know this is the very thing that had me bring him along."

"Are they talking of important things?" she asks her grandfather.

"Yes and no. Just conversing has its importance. They exchange knowledge of each other's tribes, and my daughter finds that comforting. It brings her closer to half her heritage. And they also bring greater connection between our two tribes, since she is a significant part of hers, an important advisor for her sort of father, though being highly patriarchal, that importance isn't well known. Since she's equal in intelligence to him, unlike anyone else he has met except you..."

"He's having the time of his life," Salomé finishes her grandfather's statement.

"You are jealous," Nick says. "I thought..."

"Him loving men aside from me. I know. It's silly."

"It's unexpected," Nick responds. "But good I think."

"Why? It's ridiculous. I know he won't stray. I know how much I mean to him. And with his gender preference..."

A flash of a vision of Sam embracing a Semitic whore, and an even more defined image of his fucking the beautiful daughter of the chieftain transfers from Salomé to Nick telepathically, making Nick chuckle. "I love your passion, granddaughter," he tells her. "But you need to harness this jealousy, choke it out of your system. I think it will give you strength in controlling emotions. It will make you more mature. And when you succeed, it will benefit Sam as well."

"How so?"

"Don't you think he'll be jealous when you meet your first genius?"

"I thought he was my first genius."

"Smartass," Nick chuckles. "You know what I mean."

Salomé sighs. "I kind of hope that meeting doesn't happen too soon. I do love Sam."

"I know you do. We'll see." He kisses her cheek and rises, walking over to the chief and beginning a discussion, quieter than Sam's with the chief's daughter, but just as friendly. An older woman of the chief's tribe, probably in her late thirties, provides translation.

"Friends," Salomé thinks, continuing to watch her lover and the lovely woman chatting, and her envy and jealousy immediately dissolve like a shadow dissolved by the sun interrupted by a cloud, and a new shadow, a new emotion appears when the metaphorical cloud moves on. Lust. "She's hot," Salomé realizes with pussy wetting profundity. At that very moment she notices those beautiful eyes scanning her with interest. When their eyes meet, Salomé shivers, seeing just as lustful a gaze as she's certain she's giving the woman. The tongue slipping sensually across the woman's full lips enflames Salomé's lust, palpitating her heart and flashing throughout her body with the heat of it.

Leaning forward onto her hands and knees, she caresses Sam's cheek with her lips. "Be back soon," she tells him and gets a distracted smile in return. Moments earlier, she would curse that distraction. Now it amuses her.

The search for Ben takes little time. He sits alone, whittling a piece of dead wood with a sharp stone, a valuable skill that surprises Salomé, done with ivory tusks from elephants which the tribe rarely succeeds in killing, usually the younger ones with smaller tusks. Wood was almost as rare as tusks at least in being cast off for carving.

"What are you making?" she asks him.

He shrugs. "The wood will tell me."

"I never knew you had such skills."

"My father," he shrugs. "He says I need practice." He shows her an ivory piece, beautifully wrought, of a male head.

"Is that... ?"

"Nick," he smiles. "My father's proudest piece. He wants me to better it before I take over his business."

"The others?" she looks around.

"With the whores," he shrugs.

"Not interested?"

He only shrugs.

"Sam prefers men too."

Even with his deep black skin, she can see his blush.

"Secrets, okay?" she says. He nods. "Come with me."

They hold hands as they walk. She sees his young, shy smile. "You like women too?"

"Sometimes. Unfortunately..."

"Speak your mind, Ned. I will always be discreet. I make good council because of it."

"They're either taken..."

"Like me?"

He nods, "Or they're ... impossible."

"Who?"

"My ... mother."

Salomé has never gotten to know Ned. They live in different areas of the large village and hang out with different people. He has at least five years on her as well, nearing twenty. She does know who the best whittler is, just as everyone in the village knows of her and her closeness with her grandfather. She also knows the whittler's mate, his most common model, the most graceful and beautiful woman in the tribe, even in her forties, even with aged, sagging dugs.

"Delilah?" she asks him. When he nods, she chuckles. "I don't blame you. She's hot."

His surprise turns to amusement. "You're just as hot, Salomé."

"Why thank you, Ned," she responds, pressing her breasts against his shoulder and giving him a kiss on his cheek. She notices movement in his loincloth with excited bemusement.

Seeing where they're headed, and the unmistakable pleasure in the chief's daughter's eyes when she spots their approach, the focus clearly on Salomé, Ned comments sotto voce, "She's hot too."

"Isn't she?" Salomé chuckles.

By then Sam notices his new friend's distraction and turns his head to see what did it, seeing his lover hand in hand with another man. Salomé watches his face shift from a jealous frown to a delighted smile when he looks into her eyes, one of them winking, both mischievous and loving. He gets even more excited when he realizes who she's brought, the man with the incredible ass, and with a face just as spectacular, handsome on the edge of beautiful.

"You two done talking?" Salomé smirks, releasing Ned's hand and occupying Sam's lap, enveloping him in a hug. "Cause I know an even more fun use of lips and tongue." She illustrates with a passionate kiss, tongue greeting tongue. "Ask your new, gorgeous friend where the four of us might find some privacy."

"Do ... we have time?" asks Sam.

"Grandfather says we'll be with them overnight," she relates her telepathic conversation with an amused Nick. "Her father has invited us to rest in their village. It will take the afternoon to get there. I suggested the four of us might be lagging behind, perhaps arriving at morning light, if, like I said, your friend has a private place along the way."

He translates carefully to his new friend, hoping not to offend. The delighted smile actually thrills him. Though her curvy femininity hasn't quite sparked the interest only Salomé brings him regarding the female sex, their long and intelligent conversation has brought him a sense of intimacy, which, even in its relative brevity, borders on love.

"I know just the place," she tells them, and unbelievably, Salomé understands her.

"Thanks, grandfather," she conveys.

"You're welcome, Salomé," he returns. "Have fun."

The woman hops to her feet, and despite sitting for nearly an hour on the fur covered ground, is steady on them. She wipes down her furry skirt, bringing eyes to her voluptuous ass. Her body resembles Salomé's with a thick layer added. Greater curves between hips and chest, they still have the length between them that Salomé has, with just as taut an abdomen. Her shorter, stouter legs make her reach a height up to Salomé's nose. There's power in them, and sexiness. Her more rounded face, with expressive eyes and lips, gives her a sexy cuteness. In other words, she's an incredibly sexy creature.

Having stood as well and helping Sam onto his feet, Salomé watches this bewitching creature hug and kiss Sam on the cheek before finding herself even more thoroughly hugged and kissed, on the lips this time.

With a giggle, the woman dashes off, "Got to talk to father," heard in her wake.

"Which father?" Salomé thinks.

"Both actually," Nick responds in her mind, "since we're still hanging out together."

"She said..." Sam begins.

"I know what she said," Salomé interrupts him.

After a moment to solve the riddle, he smiles. "Grandfather?"

She kisses him. "Smart boy."

He looks at Ned shyly. "Hi Ned," he says.

"Hi handsome," Ned replies daringly. The resultant smile on Sam's face brings forth chuckles from all of them.


"Wait," I interrupted Salomé. "Aren't we scaring the target audience away, you know, awkward male adolescents and young men, with all this gay stuff?"

Salomé looked to Betty. "It's something to worry about," the blonde beauty agreed.

"There's not so much of it, actually. Just at the beginning as I prepped Tplk for her husband. It's not necessary to focus on it, keep it fuzzy, out of focus I suppose."

"Who is Teplick?" asked Lindy.

"The Chief's daughter. They had those clicks and pops peculiar to some southern African languages, so I've been avoiding her name. Teplick's fine. More than fine," she adds, chuckling, a fondness in her recollection.

"Husband?" asked Lindy.

"Let me continue," Salomé smiled, "and you'll soon know." We two mortals nodded.


"Who's he?" Salomé asks Teplick when the woman returns.

The surprise on Teplick's face brings an explanation. "Nick's letting me understand you, and I guess he's returning the favor."

A cute high giggle and quick embrace and kiss reveals Teplick's delight.

"He's ... uhm ... He helps me conceive future chiefs. Unfortunately so far they've been female."

"Your husband?"

"I guess, though we sleep separately if in the same room. He prefers the white whores. I do too, and his favorite helps in our conceiving, though she definitely prefers men."

"So I'm to be your whore?" Salomé asks, humor in her voice denying any offence.

"Oh Salomé. I only wish you could. I mean I wish you could be with me. You're leaving and I..." the sexy woman bursts into tears.

They hug and Salomé kisses away her tears. "I like you too. I'd invite you along, but I'm sure you have responsibilities."

Releasing her after kissing her lips, Teplick restores her pride in all its regal glory. "I do. Let's go." She takes Salomé's hand.

Noticing Teplick's husband carries a fur rug, Ned grabs the rug Sam and Teplick have been sitting on and shakes it out before rolling it up.

The men trail the women a few paces, all enjoying the view of perfect female posteriors. They converse with Sam serving as interpreter.

The husband explains his relationship with his wife. "I am too simple for her. I was chosen for the strength and fecundity of my ancestors, not for my intelligence, though really no men would satisfy her that way. Her intelligence intimidates me and everyone else except the chief. He adores her. And she finds me unsatisfying in other ways too."

"She prefers her own gender," Sam explains.

"It's something I don't understand," the husband replies.

"Is it strange in your tribe?"

"It is completely unique."

"Men don't love men?"

"What good would that do? How could it benefit the tribe? No child could come of it, obviously."

"We have similar beliefs," says Sam with a nod. "Perhaps our numbers allow such taboos to exist."

"Are they common?"

"Not so much, but they exist."

"How do you know? You say they are taboo, so..."

"Two of those who enjoy their own sex are walking with you. And it appears both women whom we are enjoying so much, their amazing asses altering our desire for the other sex, have similar feelings towards each other."

"How could any men not be swayed by them?" Ned adds. "By that ... swaying," he chuckles.

"How indeed?" asks the husband.

"Because my friend Ned here has an ass, small and tight as it is, just as delicious to me as those two." Sam grips the subject, finding it as delicious as imagined.

The husband can only shake his head.

Later, Ned asks Sam, "What were our lovely ladies discussing that made the Chief's daughter so distraught?"

When Ned tells him, that her sexual preference has rarely if ever been sated, Ned nods contemplatively.

"What?' Sam asks him.

"I may have a solution," Ned smiles.

"What?' Sam asks.

"Later. I want to find out more about this woman first."

They arrive at their trysting spot, a pastoral gem featuring a broad waterfall a dozen feet high with a large pool beneath it, and, they soon discover, a cave behind it.

"Wonderful," coos Salomé, immediately stripping naked.

Before diving into the pool, Teplick stops her. "Later, my gorgeous angel. I need you now." She too strips off her furs and embraces Salomé, kissing her passionately and caressing her back, pulling the angel against her until they rub titties and pussies as she squeezes the taut, perfect flesh of Salomé's ass. Breaking the passionate embrace, she breathlessly says, "Come on," pulling Salomé behind the falls and into the cave.

Somehow Salomé reappears from the curtain of heavy water, yelling to Sam, "Can you grab the gourd attached to my belt?" before disappearing again with a jerk and a laugh.

When Sam and the other men enter the cave, they see the two women in full embrace, sitting on the cold rock floor, their thighs intertwined so it is impossible to tell who is sitting in the lap of whom. Their lips seal together as their hands not holding them up hide between their close torsos obviously squeezing each other's tits.

"The gourd!" Sam shouts over the crashing water, the natural curtain in this private little world.

Salomé smiles back at him since she faces away, and reaches back to take the gourd, winking at his nakedness. She places the opening against Teplick's lips. "Here. Drink."

"Nick's essence?" Teplick responds. "I don't need it."

"It can only make things better," Salomé smiles lustily.

Teplick's eyes agree, and she gulps down a quantity of the elixir. Once done, Salomé hands back the gourd, only to have the husband the only one to receive it. She finds Sam and Ned in full embrace on a higher shelf in the cave, their hands busy with each other's genitals.

"Drink this," she tells the husband, "and enjoy. I'll tell you when you can join in."

Relieved of the gourd, Salomé and Teplick resume their kissing and caresses. Their pussies press harder together, building the thrill they feel for each other to a whole new level of intensity. They begin rocking together, mashing clits, in a steady fucking motion. Soon Salomé does all the work as her new friend gets lost in a tremendous orgasm.

Salomé keeps the genital grind going while her lips lower and her teeth emerge to chew on one nipple while twisting the other with her fingers, sustaining Teplick's orgasm.

It barely begins abating when Salomé shifts them, bringing Teplick onto her back, the cold, hard stone barely noticed within the woman's hot passion. Salomé has her climbing towards ecstasy again as she kneels between the woman's thighs and shoves her middle finger into a pussy flooded and pulsing with exquisite pleasure. The way Salomé places her hand, rubbing against the knuckle with her own clit while adding a second finger plunging in and out, high against the woman's clit and deeper against her g-spot, makes it seem like those fingers are Salomé's hard-on thrusting into the woman, fucking her.

Another orgasm quickly follows cuing Salomé to change the situation. She reaches back and takes hold of an enormous cock that the husband sports and brings it to her mouth and down her throat. "Put the rug down for your knees," she yells to him after the deep throat, "and put her legs against your shoulders." She makes room for him by sliding forward until her pussy hovers over Teplick's smiling mouth.

"Make me cum," she commands.

"With pleasure," Teplick roars back, her eyes gazing lovingly up at Salomé's gorgeous face before taking in the beauty of her cunt close up. Once her mouth and tongue begin working their loving magic on it, the gaze returns to Salomé's face, their eyes hooking together whenever Teplick isn't distracted by Salomé focusing attention on her own perky, perfect breasts and lengthy nipples which the angel's long, elegant fingers play with.

A moment later, a much more significant distraction happens. "Oh fuck!" Teplick groans as her husband expands her pussy with his enormous cock.

Salomé turns her head to him and instructs him, his wife providing unsteady translation. "Push in slow. Coax that monster inside. Give her time to make room. Fuck her slow. When she starts fucking back, then you can start fucking the shit out of her. But tell me when you're ready to cum."

He nods, his eyes wide with lust, his face a grimace. She chuckles at it before returning her eyes to Teplick whose lips and tongue have been teasing her quite successfully. At that moment, Teplick seizes her clit within thick lips, squeezes and sucks, sending Salomé to a high plateau of pleasure. "Oh yes!" she moans. Teplick's wide eyes seem to grin with accomplishment.

Because of this gorgeous angel, everything is different about her husband planting seeds inside her to make a child grow. Because of Salomé, she feels no pain, as his big stick which would have shoved deep and ripped away at her tender interior, gives time to make room. The deeper he goes, the more she enjoys it, until she feels his loins press against hers and his cock seems to press right into her womb. She feels pulsations ripple from the mouth of her cunt to its very depth. And the ripples reverberate through the rest of her body, meeting other pulses of pleasure emanating from her nipples being squeezed with near painful pressure by Salomé, leaning back and gripping those stone hard tips. And the vision above her of Salomé's incredible body and face adds another dimension to her exquisite orgasm, as does the sweet smell and taste of Salomé's nectar and the heat and texture beneath Teplick's tongue.

As she shakes with ecstasy, somehow it builds even higher with her husband withdrawing and shoving deep again as rapidly as he ever has. Again the pain she has always felt when he fucked her fast and hard, as he pretty much did from the start, luckily to a quick conclusion, becomes absolute pleasure instead. In fact, like his earlier impregnations, she wishes its conclusion, but only because she can handle only so much bliss.

As usual, her husband arrives at his release within a minute. "So good," he mutters in amazement. "Gonna cum!" he proclaims through tightened throat. He wants to push deeper than ever, a natural need to send seed to plant in fecund soil. But he finds himself held back, inches from full depth, as Salomé restrains him with her head against his solar plexus. As his seed throbs out of his cock, he presses as deep into his wife as Salomé allows, and retreats between ejaculations, shoving in at the next exquisite pulse. Finally the throbs quiet, and his needy thrusts soften, and his body relaxes, and he lets go of his wife's thighs and his loosening cock slips out wet with both their sex juices.

"Thank you, husband," Teplick murmurs quietly. "You have done your duty well. Now go and join the others."

He nods though she can't see it, staring up at Salomé rapturously. "Thank you," he tells her. "It never felt so good."

"I know," she responds. "Stay with your whore now. I believe your duty is done."

"Learn from this," Salomé adds. "Learn to make the way slick for her, and to ease in until she's ready to be thoroughly taken, and only then let your passion take over." Unlike Teplick, she can see his nod at his wife's translation as he clothes himself and departs.

"Kiss me," Teplick mutters, and Salomé lays over her, their pussies once more squeezing together as their thighs intertwine, and Teplick moans within the kiss, the most intense orgasm of her life still echoing within her.

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