She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac.
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This video was uploaded to bryoni-high-class-ebony-companion.com on 16-05-2024 19:36:42
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