His cock hovered near the entrance of her pussy for a microsecond before slamming back into her. The need was too great. She wiggled her hand to her ...lit and began to rub back and forth frantically. He was using long, slow, hard strokes, but what she wanted was hard and fast. She felt his finger probe her tightly closed rosebud, and her cunt wept a copious amount of oyster colored tears. Her thighs were wet; her pussy coated in with a thin layer of soft sand. He pushed his long middle finger. It was not power they looked for, but continuity. They were not by their nature ignorant or blind to any threat. They were as an organization diffuse and worked in small-scattered groups. They had constant threat of attack by slavers to worry about. Everything else in the courts throughout the land the Sisters attended was the politics of security. Ideas about feelings and politeness stopped at the word security. A true Sister understood 'Peace' only as the abstract and transient word it. More

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