Durandal stifled a moan by biting into her lower lip.
even if she wanted to kick now it was a bit too late. that tongue stunted her long enough to almost weaken to nothing.
and by that , that means she was slowly starting to hunch over feeling wobbly in the legs.
amon eventually pulled the mare around, arms tight around her hips as his face greeted her rear.
the mutt's maw slipped between the valley of her ass, his lips connecting to her slit.
his tongue slowly grazing against them, cautiously gliding his tongue against her clit ( )