Tate had to admit that the place wasn’t as bad as he had been expecting. He had been reluctant at first to join his gay friend Mick to the gay club, but he had thought it better than to let Mick sit in and mope all night again. It had been almost a month since Mick’s boyfriend had dumped him and he hadn’t taken it well at all. Perhaps a
Michael forced himself to remain calm, yet the nagging fear would not go away. The simple fact was, for all he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was in a dire situation. Having spent the last week camping in the wilds of the forest, he had packed up to undertake the two-day hike back to his four-by-four, parked up on a remote dirt track. That had been five days ago.
Sir Vincent, honoured knight of King Arthur, crept through the darkened corridor with his sword drawn, calculating each step carefully. It was no exaggeration to say that his very life depended on his caution and to put a foot wrong could spell his doom. All alone in the heart of the High Sorcerer’s fortress, he was lucky to have survived this far. He would have felt significantly more at ease
Craig was lounging in front of the TV screen, paying little attention to the crappy reality show blaring on as he scrolled through pictures of practically naked girls on his phone, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hauling himself lazily up, he glanced at the clock on his wall: 11.37. Fucking twenty to midnight. Furious at the distraction, he shuffled into the hallway to answer it.
‘Hey honey,’ she said as her husband picked up the phone, desperately trying to hold back a moan. ‘I was just ringing to say I will be home a little late tonight.’ Licking her lips seductively, Gemma felt her boss speed up a little as he pumped his dick into her hungry pussy. She had spent the last half an hour beneath his desk, teasing his dick with soft lips
