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“Are you fucking serious?” “Of course!” Yavara huffed, raising her chin. Then her lips creased into a wicked smile, and she blowjob slid out of her dress, “You can only expose yourself after your queen.” My eyes fixated on Yavara breasts, the pink nipples hard and moist against her bronze globes, which were perched in gravity-defying fullness above her flat belly. I didn’t know why they transfixed me so; I’d seen them plenty of times, but oh… oh, they looked so good! “Yavara, cover yourself.” I hissed, holding the knife aloft, “You’re distracting me.” “Am I?” Yavara grinned, leaning onto the table, “Then it’s a fair contest.” She giggled, “Brock is practically lifting the table with his cock right now.” Her voice became low in my ear, “I think your little minions have been busy little bees.” I looked over Brock’s cumshot shoulder, where in the shadows surrounding the hut, Crystal was biting her lip, looking as guilty as could be. I glanced over anal at Prestira, whose porcelain face was flushed, her skin glimmering beautifully, her white eyes transfixed on me. Zander was staring a hole through Certiok’s head, Certiok was ogling him back, Trenok was rubbing his shoulder as he gazed at Patricia, who was returning the look with red ravenous eyes. With effort, I raised the knife over my hand. It seemed the entire room hinged on my movement, their eyes fixing on the edge of the knife, their breaths bated. They were waiting, waiting for blood to be drawn so that they could become animals. The semblance of civility was crumbling, the very fabric of society stretching at the point of my blade, longing to tear. I didn’t even sing the song, but simply stabbed the table in flurry of motion, my rhythm gone, my vision hazed, the blood pounding in my ears. I could smell the arousal in the room, the hormone-rich perfume that sublimed from our loins, that primal signaler that saturated the ancient parts of our minds. Thump, thump, thump; was it the blade hitting the table, or my heart beating in my chest? I couldn’t know. Thump, thump, thump. I gasped, sweet pain lancing up my forearm. The knife wagged into the table, its slim edge opening the tip of my finger. The room was silent as I held my hand aloft, and watched the deep crimson draw a path into my palm. A covetous hand clasped me gently, and brought my finger to blood-red lips. I barely recognized Prestira in her vampiric interracial form. Her features were a display of gothic beauty, and with a shrug of her shoulders, her silver robe cascaded from her, revealing a body that had transformed into a celebration of muscle and curves. blonde Her slit pupils consumed her irises as she took my finger into her mouth, and sucked it. “Delicious.” She whispered, her voice sounding through the room, “Can I have more?” “Yes.” I whispered back. Then it began. The thought of flashing got me excited. I grabbed her tits. anal She moved her hands up Doris's thighs, catching the hem of the dress and rucking it up a little. Nothing really different there, as I always do what Jon tells me, whatever he asks. Corruption clasped a hand to her forehead and began kneading the flesh as though suffering an acute headache. “You leave here today, that’s it. “Ms. Morgan, I have several questions to ask you. “He's embarrassed,” I said, lounging naked on my bed. Stacey's cumshot heavy-lidded gaze, filled with lust, matched her quickening breathing as she looked down at Bianca licking out her most intimate folds. Colleen was licking his asshole and drilling her pink tongue deep inside his black ass. What the hell was going on? clean rice. His precum spilled over my tongue. “This is a print out from all 50 states blonde in the country showing that Alicia Nestor does not have interracial a blowjob license to practice law in any of the 50 states.