She encourages me to continue but she does not have to her pleasure is my pleasure. Her breathing becomes shallow, and her thighs close around my head...and her body begins to buck, and soon I am rewarded with her sweet nectar. I feel her hands pulling me up I raise myself up so I am face to face with her. She places her hands on each side of my face and kisses deeply tasting herself on my lips. As we continue to kiss she pushes me up so that I am sitting back on my heels. She cups my balls while. Her soul once more felt broken and weak. Time will heal most wounds, and it did in fact mend the cracks in the damsel’s heart. As the days drifted past, she was once more (mostly) content with long conversations and shared laughter with the object of her affections. They continued to write love letters of epic proportions, and the arrival of each one made the damsel’s heart swell near to bursting. One day, one such letter arrived. It was much thinner than the rest had been, and the words inside. More

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