Blackest of void was her fine delectable dress with edges of bloodied crimson lace.

Leaving nothing to the imagination, her luscious lips smirked at her next prey. Despite the hidden conflict in her heart, tall she stood center at the bar.

Speaker's blast grew her mind senile to the peak, so, then, tequila for a devil was she knocked at once and sway her way.

Shivering full of lust was it, as four women endulge their senses in its touch. How unsightly for a division commander to be lustrous towards prostitutes. Long before she...