[Table of Contents] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter] Twenty-One Irynna, with her lovely clinging leather breeches as a barrier from assault, straddled him while scornfully changing the bandage at his shoulder, tongue in her teeth as she concentrated.
Im not one of those that sits in front of a tv with a show on and scrolling on their phone. I put the phone away and watch the TV.
But, oh my, sitting through the second last episode of the Witcher is fuckn torture.
Decided to no longer waste my time with that shit , rather jump on substack and actually read some proper writing. Glad I did.
No idea how some of these TV writers get a job.