They fought unfair rulers usually dethroning them and did good deeds for the poor such as give them their money back.
It had been six weeks since the last Dream Weaver had died.
Teaching Artist. Queer af.
I risked opening my eyes to see him watching me while he discarded my pants and panties. His cock bobbed slightly from its elevated position, and I licked my lips.
His breath caressed my upper back between my shoulder blades before his lips did.
Over and over again, we played that game. And the longer it went on, the wetter I became.
And why he was so concerned about accepting her proposition.
That the truth was bearable. He was more like me than I'd imagined.
Eventually, I got brave enough to go to the local gatherings that met in public for meals and chitchat.