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I peered inside where a woman dangled under a light by chains that attached to the ceiling. Black hair hung loosely over her face. Her simple, white work shirt and pants had strips cut away, obviously where her interrogators had decided to persuade her to talk. Altea demanded, “Was this her?”I hesitated and Altea loudly repeated her question. The figure was similar. Lean, powerful but still soft. A trembling hand reached out to touch her hair. It was damp and tangled. How long had she been hanging here? How had they captured her? Questions buzzed in my mind. Parting the captured woman’s hair, her head lifted up. Silver eyes opened to look into mine. I fell backwards onto my ass and started scrambling to get away. Smacking into the wall knocked the words out of me, “Yes, that was her!” “Oh, you remember me, I’m flattered,” mocked the captured assassin. Placing a hand over my chest, I reminded myself, she was captured. Chained. As I watched her flip her head so her hair was out of. I’d never seen his cock and it was gorgeous. It was my time to stare. He was uncut like me, and it was his foreskin that caught my attention. Even though he was erect, the skin completely covered the swollen head of his cock and the puckered skin at the end stuck out a couple more inches. I rolled onto my back, my cock springing out of my thong and sticking straight up, my foreskin had rolled completely back, the curved end purple in the dim light from my bedside lamp. He smiled and climbed over me, straddling my chest, his cock nodding gently inches from my mouth. I lifted my head and kissed the folds of skin, precum moistened my lips. I placed my fingers around the shaft and slowly pulled his foreskin back. The smell of his wet cockhead as it slowly appeared nearly made me cum, and I when I had his foreskin completely pulled back I took him in my mouth. He groaned as my tongue, swirled around his manhood, tasting him, thanking God silently that he hadn’t washed. I sucked and.
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