A Transalvanian Tale of Lust
It was night, the deepest densest part, when small rodents scuttle out of their hay filled homes and frolic in the fields. Yet in the moonlight the owl is also spying over their domain and closely watching the poor unsuspecting creatures. This reflects what is happening, directly outside the wide expanse of your half d****d window. The moonlight has entered, crossing your soft slender legs and playing on your warm luxuriously full bosoms. Your soft shiny apparel, only enhancing the moons...