I glanced around the campsite again, expecting from the smell, something like a forgotten corpse."Good Gods, what is that?" The odor seemed to be comi...g from the pot in the fire. Leaving the Lady, I bent over the pot and pulling out a rag from my pack, wrapped my hand against the heat. "May I?"She shrugged.When I cracked the lid, steam escaped... along with an indescribable odor of old socks, seaweed and someone's forgotten barnyard boots?"Um, is it a poultice?" I guessed. "Your companion has a. "Now what you want to do is pull up slowly, you want to keep a firm grip without being too forceful, then stroke downwards after that. It's all about finding the rhythm that feels best" I slowly started to stroke myself to show him, much slower than I usually do but I wanted him to understand. His eyes only left my shaft briefly to watch his mother, she was enjoying the show, licking her lips as she watched both her older son and her blood son. Our boy soon got his own rhythm, stroking a. More

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