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My knife whisked. I paused after each sawing stroke, listening to the snoring. It stayed the same. Inch-by-inch, my blade sliced downward, making my entrance into the tent.Finished, the cloth swayed, loose.I crept through the hole and crouched just inside. Movement froze me. In the corner, a form uncurled, painted in the light from a small lantern hanging from the tent’s frame at its apex. A pale-skinned female body sat up, bushy hair spilling about narrow shoulders. A pair of triangular ears, tawny like her hair, thrust up at the top of her head and twitched like a cat’s. A face stared at me, golden eyes slitted. A lamia. Her slitted eyes fixed on me, keen vision noticing me.Then they flicked to the sleeping, snoring man.The warleader slept naked atop his blankets, his body a dusky brown and so muscled his veins stood out against his skin. A shaved head gleamed in the lantern light. A black mustache, the ends long and drooping down to his chin, adorned a squat and chiseled face.The. She would never belong to anyone else ever again, the love she had for him spilled out of her heart to surround him.Emma turned fully to him, she knew what she was doing now, knew where she was going and never coming back."Darling," she whispered, "this is the point of no return, are you aware of that?" She hoped he got her meaning, that he understood what she was not saying, that she was committing herself to this, to him."I've never understood anything better in my life Emma, Mrs Mark Andrew Lyndhurst," he said quietly, but strongly."I like that, It like the sound of it Mr Lyndhurst, my marriage to you is going to be final Mark, make no mistake."Before he could reply Emma, his now gone mother sought his prick, she found it easily, it was in her soft hand, then hands, he groaned, she pushed down his shorts, and said."Never ever wear anything in bed with me again young man, I want you naked at all times and ready for me, got that?" His reply to that was to rise above her, nudge her.
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