Daenerys did indeed think about Jorah that night. She thought about Jorah each time Drogo took her to bed. And each time Drogo left for a hunt or passed out drunk from too much ale, Daenerys would meet Jorah in the night and took him to bed. Though she still, even after all this time, did not allow him to penetrate her. He was only permitted to use his fingers to fuck her.
Tonight was different. Tonight Drogo had taken her to their tent, had touched her and squeezed over her breasts, gotten her wet and wanting, only to pass out drunk from too much strong wine onto the pelts that covered their bed. Daenerys was disappointed. She was wet. She was horny.
Daenerys donned a hooded cloak - something simple to keep her hidden. She moved silently through the camp. Most of the Blood Riders were drunk, and she went unnoticed. Daenerys slipped behind the tents, behind the tent with slightly darker pelt - Jorah's tent. She knew the Dothraki celebrations didn't interest him if she wasn't there, that he would likely be sleeping.
She slid into the tent silently from the back. Sure enough, she found Jorah asleep. Daenerys stepped up to the cot that served as his bed, letting the cloak fall from her shoulders. She wore a sheer gown that could be seen through - her slender figure and perky breasts.
"Jorah the Andal..." she whispered, crawling into the bed beside him, letting her leg slip between his and she pressed into him slightly. Her hand slid down his chest, over his loose sleeping trousers to press over his cock. "My Jorah. Will you wake for me?"
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Tonight was different. Tonight Drogo had taken her to their tent, had touched her and squeezed over her breasts, gotten her wet and wanting, only to pass out drunk from too much strong wine onto the pelts that covered their bed. Daenerys was disappointed. She was wet. She was horny.
Daenerys donned a hooded cloak - something simple to keep her hidden. She moved silently through the camp. Most of the Blood Riders were drunk, and she went unnoticed. Daenerys slipped behind the tents, behind the tent with slightly darker pelt - Jorah's tent. She knew the Dothraki celebrations didn't interest him if she wasn't there, that he would likely be sleeping.
She slid into the tent silently from the back. Sure enough, she found Jorah asleep. Daenerys stepped up to the cot that served as his bed, letting the cloak fall from her shoulders. She wore a sheer gown that could be seen through - her slender figure and perky breasts.
"Jorah the Andal..." she whispered, crawling into the bed beside him, letting her leg slip between his and she pressed into him slightly. Her hand slid down his chest, over his loose sleeping trousers to press over his cock. "My Jorah. Will you wake for me?"