"Leave the details alone, master!"

Frost Sorrow waved his hand, motioning for Arthas to stop thinking about these little things, and then gently lowered his body and lay on Arthas's lap, his hands already daring to untie Arthas's pants.

"Frost, you ......"

Arthas snorted as Frost Grief unbuttoned his pants and then pushed him down on the bed/and forcibly ripped off his pants.

For Arthas, it had been six years since Frost Sorrow had taken the initiative to make out with him; Since the Red Dragon Queen's transformation of her body first took shape, the little magic sword was terrified every time she mentioned making love to herself.

"Hah!"

There was an incomprehensible snort from Frostmourn's wound, and Arthas propped himself up, finding that the little magic sword was staring at his crotch that was already on fire/heat/hard/hard.

"Hee-hee...... Master, from today onwards, you don't have to endure so hard...... If it's a small frost with three holes, it will definitely satisfy the host your ......."

Frost Sorrow muttered as she lowered her body and caressed Arthas's vital point with her hands.

"Little Frost ......"

Arthas let out a comfortable groan as he propped one hand behind him, the other caressing Frost Sorrow's body.

Feeling the affection/lust of her master, Frost Sorrow cooperated and faded away the only blue dress on her body, and her flawless body was suddenly revealed in front of Arthas.

Even if I've seen it countless times. Alsace is still overwhelmed by the beauty of frost sorrow; Sometimes, he really couldn't believe that such a beautiful woman could belong to him. And...... Also bury your head in your crotch / room, do ...... Something like that.

As in the carriage on the Arathi Heights, Frost Sorrow hung her head, letting her jet-black hair cover her delicate cheeks and brushing them behind her ears.

-- For it is only with both hands that he grasps the fiery chin of Alsace, and presses down its great end, so that his tongue can act. It's already taken a lot of energy for Frost Sorrow.

This is not an easy task, and despite the strength of Frost Sorrow, this thing is no ordinary stick. It's the Frost's Sorrow Treasure, and the little magic sword is reluctant to break even the slightest.

Gently spitting out the tip of her pink tongue, Frost Sorrow began to lick the clear spring at the top of her head; As Alsace's body shuddered slightly, a milky/white mucus flowed from the spring. was swept into his mouth by the light spirit tongue of the little magic sword.

"Hmm......"

Frost Grief flexed her legs. The rounded buttocks were pouted high, and he tried to lower his upper body, allowing Arthas's hands to continue to play tricks on his plump twin peaks, slowly but surely sending his master's fiery baby into his mouth.

"Oh......"

Arthas let out a groan, his thick palm tightening, and he held the bosom on Frostmourn's side in his hand.

As if it were a plump/full water bag filled with Gyokuro elixir, the white and delicate milk/flesh of Frost Sorrow spilled slightly through Arthas's fingers, but it still maintained its round appearance. It shows that this pair of children's plump/breast is full of elasticity.

Arthas's palms couldn't help but rub slightly, he had to do something. to share the intense feeling of comfort that came from my lower body, hitting my spine and mind.

"Woo ......"

Frost Mourn let out an incomprehensible whimper from his wound, Arthas was not the little boy in the carriage on the Arathi Heights six years ago, he who had been transformed by the Red Dragon Queen, he could be said to be the strongest of the human beings, and even mortals.

Even something between the legs is the same.

Compared to the beginning, Frost Sorrow is no longer so easy to use his small lips to hold the master's fiery forehead; After just a few swallows, Frost Sorrow felt a swelling soreness in his cheeks.

The pink lips were rounded by the huge column, and for the reason that they could not be closed, a cool, mysteriously fragrant liquid flowed down the corners of Frost's sad mouth, dripping on Arthas's body—no longer a hairless desert than it had been six years ago—but a weedy instead of a hair-weed—and dripping on the sheets under the two men, gradually wetting a small piece.

Arthas always suspected that Frost's sad saliva had a kind of "aphrodisiac" effect, and in fact, it was exactly that, in the painstaking swallowing of the little magic sword, Arthas's lower body became thicker/stronger and hotter.

What bothers Frost Sorrow the most is not the thickness, but the length; In order to prevent the huge tip from pressing on his delicate throat, the little magic sword had to wrap his hands around the bottom of Arthas's ben, so that the part of it that entered his mouth would not be too long.

Even so, Frost Grief began to get a little dizzy - things were going a little differently from Little Magic Sword's original plan, as if the "surprise" hadn't started yet, and he was about to be defeated first.

"Wow!"

Frost's sorrow finally spat Arthas's fiery out of her mouth, and she wiped the silver threads from the corners of her mouth with her own hands, and looked at the hateful "fellow" who was still holding her head high and provoking her.

"Xiaoshuang, forget it, you won't be able to bear it if you go on like this......"

Arthas embarrassedly withdrew his hand from Frost Sorrow's round chest, and although he hadn't touched it enough, he persuaded the little devil to do the sword.

Arthas, of course, knew that his body was in trouble, and even Frost Sorrow was difficult to vent in his normal position.

Little Magic Sword's lips and tongue are naturally soft and comfortable, but she wants to rely on her half-baked skills and half-understood skills learned from soul memories to make Arthas's "little brother" soften......

After six years of multiple attempts, this is simply impossible.

"No, master, Xiaoshuang must do it!"

Frostmourn snorted unconvinced, then lunged at Arthas again, letting his master moan comfortably once more.

Although he didn't have much hope at first, this time, Arthas clearly sensed the difference in Frost's sorrow.

Whether it's the frequency with which the tip of the tongue touches and licks at the end of the fiery uplift, or the amplitude of the head of the mantis that is obscured by the jet-black hair, or the stroking of the flesh/bag and the pellets under the boneless little hands under his bone, it is a unique experience that Alsace has never experienced before. (To be continued......)

PS: Thank you for the monthly pass of Book Friend Chao 7.(8) Bad ¢ 123, thank you for the monthly pass of the king of Book Friend Xiaoqiang