Having remained nearby, Sinric steps forward and starts to translate Gisla's words, but Rollo stops him with a shake of his head. "Translate this," h... says. "Remove your clothes, my beautiful wife." He reaches out his finger again and plays with the tattered sleeve of Gisla's dress as Sinric gives her the ultimatum. Trying hard to control her breathing, Gisla fights with all her strength to keep her chin from trembling. Seeing a nearby tent, in one last hope for some kind of privacy Gisla. I almost had to laugh at how pathetic I was. I would probably have to go to a whorehouse to take the edge off sooner or later, just so I could function properly. I didn't even know where a whorehouse might be. Call an escort service I suppose. Well, I had to do something about my throbbing fuckmeat. I slipped on a pair of white boxers and my jeans and threw on a sleeveless flannel shirt. I kept the house a bit on the cool side, even though it was winter to save on energy bills. It's a big old. More

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