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It really turn as you on because you are really sucking me hard now! I can't take any more and push your legs to get you off me and I push you on your back and spread your legs wide. I run my hands up your thighs, up to your amazing tits and to your wrists, which I pin to the bed as my rock hard cock penetrates your soaking pussy. You whimper as I bury my cock deep in you. still holding your wrists, I start nibbling on your nipples, biting every now and then.You begin thrusting your pussy against me telling me how much you want to ride me. But I keep fucking you. I let you up and you persuade me to let you ride my cock. You turn your back to me and get on, grinding that perfect pussy into my cock. I grab your hips and make you grind faster.After half an hour of grinding your clit against me, you cum, soaking my chest with your juices... you throw me a towel and disappear into the bathroom only to re-emerge with your 8-inch strap-on securely tied around your waist. You get to the bed. Then I pulled the pin on the grenade and lobbed it at the vehicle that was closest to me. Without err the grenade arced up and then it fell down into the open turret of the armoured car, passing between the gunner and the turret ring. As it did, I dropped to the ground. A second later there was a large 'wham' sound followed by the sound of ammunition cooking off and the screams of men dying. It made quite a racket and I decided to take advantage of it before somebody came to see what was going on.The armoured car nearest me was on fire and out of action with its gunner now lying dead upon the ground beside it. The man had been blown out of the vehicle when the grenade had gone off. Ignoring the grisly sight I jumped to my feet and I dashed out from where I had been hiding. With determined strides I ran around it and headed for the vehicle next in line. As I did, I immediately came under fire. Rounds started to strike all around me but none of them hit me. Sensing that my time was.
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In a domain where one wrong look could land one a stay in Hallway for a month, Ebima had learned at a very young age how to build and maintain an expression that let no emotion show. Most nobles were unable to penetrate the mask, but Lord Alexander XVII was no ordinary noble. Studying one's face, posture, and even minute hand movements was an unnatural talent of his. Ebima kept himself calm, letting no emotion whatsoever flow into his uneasy bastion of tranquility. He let his father study him, searching for a react to use against him. But alas, he found nothing. Lord Alexander scoffed and resumed pulling on his clothes. “You will have sentiments to this human no longer,” He declared as he stood, fully dressed. “Should you bring him here again, it will be as a slave, or I swear to you on your Mother's grave, he will be a corpse.” The finality and severity of his father's words cut through Ebima like a knife through butter. He watched his father's small satisfaction at finally pulling.

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