Milf Vanessa Luna’s Thick Booty Smothering Your Face

They all met again for dinner, Mia sat between the King and Prince Gustaf, they chatted amiably and discussion drifted to the wedding. “Oh, really, it’s not just the fact that you do not wish to marry Gustaf is it?” the King asked. Blacked She rushed away. “I don’t know.” she lied. Mia greeted Gustaf with mock enthusiasm and a small kiss, which he duly reciprocated before everyone went inside to finalise the wedding arrangements. King Harald ran after her, he was still fit despite being over forty years old and he easily caught her. “The next step is unfortunate but I fear my physician has to give you a thorough check to ensure you are healthy,” King Harald explained. “I’m the King, I make the rules,” he insisted, “I won’t hurt you, promise.”
Princess Mia reluctantly agreed. He swiftly unbuckled his belt, dropped his breeches and under breeches and sat down on one of the unusual chairs. “Forget the physician, let me check whether you are still pure,” he whispered. “I don’t know.” she lied. Paintings were exchanged. “Do you like cock?” he asked crudely. Queen Mir, Gustaf’s mother, had sadly passed away a few years earlier so she had no say in the matter. “Good because mine is nearly bent double,” he admitted. With four brothers she was pretty far down the next in line to the throne listings and her father saw an excellent way to avoid paying a dowry, so the plans were laid.