My Frostmourne can't be so cute

"Woo..."

There was an unexplained whimper from the wound of Frostmourne. Today, Arthas is not the little boy in the carriage on the Arathi Highlands six years ago. He was transformed by the Red Dragon Queen. It can be said to be The strongest existence among humans and even mortals.

Even something between the legs/legs is the same.

Compared with the time before, Frostmourne wanted to use her small lips to hold the host’s fiery heart, it is not so easy; just swallowing a few times, Frostmourne feels that her cheeks are rising. Soreness.

The pink lips were rounded up by the huge pillars. Because of the inability to close tightly, a cool, mysteriously scented body fluid flowed down the corners of Frostmourne’s mouth and dripped on Alsace’s body. Above—Compared with six years ago, this place is no longer a barren and barren land, but rather weeds—also dripped on the sheets under the two people, gradually getting a lot of wet.

Arthas always suspected that Frostmourne's saliva had a kind of "spring/medicine" effect. In fact, it was the same. In the laborious swallowing of the little magic sword, Arthas's lower body became thicker/stronger and hotter. Up.

What embarrassed Frostmourne the most was not the stoutness, but the length; in order to avoid the huge tip pressing on his delicate throat, the little magic sword had to use his hands to encircle the bottom of Alsace’s bend, thus controlling its entry. The part of your mouth will not be too long.

Even so, Frostmourne began to become a little dizzy-the development of the matter was a little different from Little Demon Sword's original plan, as if the "surprise" had not yet begun, and he was about to lose the battle first.

"Wow!"

Frostmourne finally spit out Alsace’s fiery benign from her mouth. With her hands, she wiped off the sluggish/chaotic silver wire from the corner of her mouth. She looked unwillingly at her, still holding her head high. The hateful "guy" who is provoking himself.

"Xiaoshuang, forget it, you will be overwhelmed if this goes on..."

Arthas awkwardly retracted his hand from Frostmourne's chubby chest. Although he hadn't touched it enough, he still persuaded the little demon swordsmanship.

Of course Arthas knew his physical problems, and even Frostmourne could hardly vent/vent it in his normal position.

Little Demon Sword’s lips and tongue are naturally soft and comfortable, but she wants to make Alsace’s "little brother" softer by relying on her half-baked and half-understood skills learned from soul memory...

After many attempts in six years, this is simply impossible.

"No, Master, Xiaoshuang must do it!"

Frostmourne snorted twice unconvincingly, and then pounced on Arthas again, causing his master to groan comfortably again.

Although he didn't hold much hope at the beginning, but this time, Arthas clearly felt the difference in Frostmourne.

Whether it’s the frequency with which the tip of the tongue touches and licks at the fiery end of the heart, or the amount of swallowing up and down by the black hair of the head, or the soft, boneless little hand that is underneath his heart. The fondling of the bag and the pellets in the bag gave Alsace an unprecedented unique experience.(To be continued.)

725 Three holes...maybe really enough?

"Xiaoshuang, you..."

Arthas exclaimed, and the intense stimulation from his lower body forced him to hold his voice back into his stomach, instead, there was a moan/groan in his throat.

Frostmourne did not raise his head, nor did he pay any attention to what the owner was saying, but concentrated on doing his own work; lips, tongue, and dexterous hands each performed their duties, and Arthas quickly forgot that it contained himself. All were Frostmourne's lips, and he couldn't help but gently sway his waist, matching the rhythm of Frostmourne.

What Arthas didn't see was the silvery white that flashed in the black eyes of Frostmourne.

Finally, as Alsace's body swings more and more, he suddenly gave up the hand supporting his body, and instead hugged Frostmourne's head with black hair.

Because of the loss of support, Arthas's body fell heavily on the sheets; at the same time, his muscles were stretched stiff, and a beast-like growl was mixed with Frostmourne ambiguous "Woohoo "Muffled.

After a long time, Arthas let go of Frostmourne's head, and Little Demon Sword sat up quickly, looking at his master with excitement.

"Xiaoshuang's three-hole battle is the first step, success!"

Frostmourne yelled loudly, regardless of the fact that the maid who was cleaning the corridor at this time was likely to hear her voice.

After venting/venting, Arthas was somewhat exhausted. He looked at Frostmourne's sad and radiant cheeks, shook his head with a wry smile, and raised a thumb to the little magic sword.

Although the praise in this area is a bit hard to speak of, Arthas had to admit that Frostmourne really made him impressed.

Little Demon Sword sees herself in this way. She is now full of confidence and full of further expectations for the "Three Hole Battle".

For a long time in the past, even if he was made by his master like a puddle of slime, it was difficult for Arthas to vent/vent; but now, Frostmourne found that he was only sucking gently with his mouth. , Let the master be defeated!

This discovery made Xiao Mojian very proud. Although her cheeks are a little sore now, it is a great improvement compared with the previous experience of lower body/body red/swollen/unbearable/tolerable.

Thinking of Frostmourne here intending to pursue the victory, she had never had the upper hand in the bed/battle with Alsace like now.

This kind of unexpected joy made Little Demon Sword not think about how the techniques she used just now suddenly got into her mind.

"Master, hurry up, let's start the next step!"

Frostmourne said to Arthas excitedly, ignoring that the whole body was down / silk / not / hanging, the abundance / tall double / peaks trembled slightly with his movements, drawing attractive curves.

"But Xiaoshuang, I still..."

Arthas replied embarrassedly that he had not recovered from the last passion.

"Huh? Why is it still soft? It doesn't matter, Master, wrap it on Xiaoshuang!"

Frostmourne glanced at Alsace's crotch in surprise, with a look of surprise on his face, and then said confidently.

In Alsace's surprised gaze, Frostmourne lowered his body again, and brought his pink lips closer to the soft..."big snake" that was no longer fierce.

Soon, under Frostmourne’s hard licking, Alsace finally regained his power; and after Frostmourne satisfactorily patted his own "competition", he turned around and tilted up. Your own fullness/roundness/full buttocks/parts.

"Master, the second step!"

Frostmourne lowered his body and assumed Alsace's favorite pose, turned his head, and said to Arthas seriously.

How can Arthas endure this situation?Without hesitation, Arthas quickly took off his shirt, and then rushed to the carcass/body that made him crazy.

Soon, the groan/groan of "babble", like a melodious ensemble of a band, followed the seam of Alsace's bedroom and briskly escaped into the corridor of Lordaeron Palace.

...

Beyond the coast of the Western Wilderness, where humans have never been before, there is a huge island, which is the isolated home of the Zandalar tribe.

In the past ten thousand years, the Zandalari tribe has not competed with the world, and at the same time closely observes other races and everything that happened in this world, and records them.

In the very center of Zandalar Island, there is an extremely huge temple; almost all the resources obtained by the Zandalar tribe from the collapsed and divided Zandalar Empire are used on this temple.

Unlike other temples of trolls, this temple is not dedicated to the animal gods, nor other gods, but the spiritual leader of the Zandalar tribe, the great Zul.

No one knows how long Zul has been alive, and no one knows how long he will continue to live; Zandalari trolls only know that those trolls of Zul’s contemporaries and even descendants have long been turned into history. The dust, but Zul still leads them to record everything in this world, just like the candle in the wind, old and strong.

In this temple, countless Zandalar prophets and priests are arranged on both sides of the main hall, across several steps, on the platform of the main hall, the great Zul is sitting on his seat, listening from the far north The returning compatriot Caldala reported on this trip to Zuaman.

Zul looks very ordinary. He is not even the tallest among these Zandalari trolls. Instead, he gives people a kind of "If he is thrown into the troll group, no one will believe that he is the last of the troll civilization. The heirs of "this feeling."

However, Caldara did not have a semi-distracted attitude. He bowed his head respectfully and said nothing-although his task here was to report what he had done in Zuaman, only the great Zul asked him. Will answer instead of talking to himself.

"I have known the general process through divination... But Kaldala, I have two more questions... Regarding Zujin, the child of the Amani tribe... Are you sure you bestowed him the power for this war? Is it necessary?"

Zul's loud voice sounded in the main hall, and only listening to the voice, no one believed that this would turn out to be a troll old man who was many times older than Kaldara.

"Yes, the great Zul. The enemies are far stronger than we predicted, and their will to destroy Zul Aman is unshakable... The four gods barrier cannot resist those enemies, the giant bear Narorak even survived. One day. So..."