THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS
Each one was a specimen of raw, virile power—broad shoulders tapering to narrow waists, chests heaving with defined pecs that rippled under smooth, tanned skin, abs carved like stone slabs glistening faintly with a sheen of anticipation.
Their thighs were thick and corded, calves bulging as they stood tall, and between their legs, thick cocks hung heavy and limp, swaying with each step, balls dangling low in their sacs.
Handsome faces turned toward Lucia, jaws set with chiseled lines, eyes dark and hungry, hair cropped short in waves.
Lucia rose from her throne of velvet cushions, her silk gown whispering against her curves as she approached the line of naked bodies.
Cocks dangling.. Some. T
Bab Populer