A cowled figure was chanting and making motions with his hands over the folded bundle of cloth sitting in that same pentagram. If anyone had been ther... to see and hear, they would have been sure they had heard the language, but could not have told you what it was. The chanting was increasing in tempo, yet the hands continued their ritualistic motions at a measured pace.When the voice peaked, the hands moved together and cupped the air above the cloth. Pulling apart, a sliver of light opened up. My back arches, sticking my breasts in the air as i cry out your name.I struggle to free my hands, so i can touch you. .You pin me down harder, your fingers stroking my wet pussy, rubbing around my tight hole, you stick one finger deep inside meas you bite my neck, Pressing my breasts against your chest,You push me back and taste your finger, taste me, Sweet like honey, After sticking your finger in me againyou bring it to my lips, so I may taste how sweet I am. Running your finger along my. More

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