Incestia 1
A warm night. A distant half-moon. A home of adobe in the Kassanian remote. A man in the soft rustle of sexual motion, the only whisper of sound in a clandestine setting for a necessary coupling. Necessary? Yes. But also i*****l. And yet, it continued. Slowly. Lewdly. The man moved in obscene cadence, pushing in and pulling back, his erect tool slow-plowing like a tiller before seed. His back arched and his loins swiveled as guttural moans emanated in his depths. Criminal. Criminal copulation....