Bengali マヤ (11)

"Nefertiti, my boy... just how did you come upon such a name? I assume like all other mask bearers your past is... fratturato? Surely you do not rem-..." Nefertiti scoffed, "I picked it... Better than letting someone else do it for you." Cinque smiled warmly, his jovial tone both jarring and strangely comforting bangla for his younger companion, "Perhaps it depends on who is choosing? My compagni and I have chosen our titles as a group, something of a... famiglia activity to help us bond, no?" The Egyptian fell silent, his beautiful eyes intensely focused as indian if in some sort of desi turmoil; Cinque frowned ever so slightly, "You know... if ever you need to open up my ear is ever open, my boy; this new amicizia between us is meant to be comfortable." The younger man's feminine visage averted as bengali his pace slowed, "...They wear masks sort of like yours, and they serve a woman named Madre. I'd avoid them if you can help it..." "Oh? Can you describe these masks? Something old Cinque and his compagni may identify them by so as to know whom we should avoid?" A grimace befell Nefertiti's expression as he recalled those wretched days, his voice carrying a gentle stutter, "Lighter than yours, and the pattern's different... two slits, across the top and bottom." Cinque pondered a moment at his new friend's reply, "Two, you say...? And such a simple modello to recall at that. I thank you for the warning, and I shall be certain to inform my compagni. Now, you have educated me... It only seems fair I should partake il mio turno, no? Tell me, Nefertiti... What is it you would like to know first?" "...What is the Nether, exactly?" Cinque laughed softly, "Ha! I should have known this would be your question... it is to my regret however that my knowledge is of a limited sort. I will share with you what of it I know, but I feel much we will have to uncover together." Cinque frowned as he saw his new friend's disappointment, "Fret not, my boy... For limited conoscenza is knowledge all the same. The Nether is, as my compagni and I have come to believe, the place to which all souls descend once they depart the mortal world. You die there... you arrive here, no?" "Wait, souls...?" Nefertiti halted, his face frozen with bewilderment, "When... my group first got here, some terrifying... thing told us we'd lost our souls." Cinque's mask tilted towards the ground, his concealed face troubled, "Yes... we have come to call them Fiend Lords, cruel things that command almost everything within the Nether. Each group of mask bearers finds themselves before one; they speak only inganno, lies... It is these very things my compagni and I have come together to reject. All they speak is deceit, but that does not mean their words cannot have use to us, no?" The younger of the two men returned to his original pace as the pair traveled through the forest, his tone hastened, "How do you know all this?" Cinque snickered, "My compagni and I are from all different groups... each of us experiencing different journeys, each told different lies by a different Fiend Lord. Our past may be vago, but I believe yourself more than aware that everything since our arrival remains quite vivid. We share the lies they have told us, separating the constants from the contradictions. Though we are unaware of their intentions, we have discovered each of them misguides us into false beliefs; it is a shame how many fall ignorante to such deceptions. Yet one thing is for certain, my boy..." Cinque glanced towards his feet a moment before looking back to Nefertiti; "Never do as they ask." I soon followed suit shooting ropes of white cream on my tee-shirt. The dread, fear, panic, and disgust at what was happening inside me with the small rodent. Hesitantly we all followed him. Anger boiled through me. Wings flapped above. By the time it got to about 10 o’clock the place was full and rowdy. When you need to cum really hard." Jane?” "Why is she desi shutting me out?" But I was nowhere close and all that indian was on my mind was Lindsey and how much she was enjoying bengali bangla her first time. Text: "AND GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF YOUR CROTCH!!" Philip then straddled her, pressing his erection against her chest, in that cavernous space between her tits.