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In battle she wielded a hammer and a heavy shield. Despite her fearlessness in combat, her noble upbringing had isolated her from the real world. This meant she was completely naïve about social situations, often becoming anxious and sometimes being taken advantage of due to her innocence, unrelenting honesty, and gullibility.Her stoic second in command, and closest friend, was a Godtouched named Cal. This was presumably short for something. No-one who asked ever got a satisfying answer. Her bright golden hair, cut in a short, almost boyish bob, warmly glowing golden eyes, and pouting golden lips contrasted arrestingly with her rich, chocolatey dark skin. She wore the traditional robes of her order, their constant shifting showing glimpses of her athletic hourglass body and the many scars that covered it. Having spent much of her life in solemn training and exclusion in her monastery, she was a master of her emotions, rarely showing so much as a smile.A thief on the road had. I mean, thats why theyre called pantyhose. Right? I said, intentionally overemphasizing the word panty, in the process. Right, Ray quickly agreed, nodding his head. At first, I was shocked! I couldnt believe what Art was doing. This definitely wasnt the Art that I knew. During the months and months that we had made out with each other at the end of our dates together, Art had never massaged my legs before, much less placed his hand up under my miniskirt, and directly onto my crotch. But this was a very different Art tonight. He was being much more aggressive. And I didnt try to stop him, either. As he kept feeling out my pussy, it felt really good to me. And so I spread my legs apart for him. And while Art was French-kissing me and feeling out my pussy, he stopped just long enough to grab my hand, and pull it over into his crotch, and place it right on top of his bulge. And I instantly knew that Art wanted me to start feeling out his hard-on. And so I did. I had never done that to a.
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