want me is the one I’m so unstoppably turned on by .
She wasn’t sure what it was about him. He was awfully gruff with her, barely saying two words at a time while he drove.
Perhaps it was his beard, so thick and unattended and wild, as black as his eyes. Or maybe it was those eyes, dark and always burning with a zealous fire that she was just completely desperate to see attuned to her body.
Maybe it was the vast inventory of weapons and totems and fetishes he had collected over his many years of hunting. In the back of his modified SUV, he had four types of crossbows, a stockade of silver bullets, plenty of silver stakes, loads of silver rods and iron rods, a chest full of crosses, three gold-plated nets, and a plethora of vials, each containing its own special serum or herb that he assured her would take care of whatever assailants came his way.
He was on the hunt for one demon in particular, he told her. An ancient evil force, one of the oldest—so old that its name had never been recorded. And he had been hearing many strange tales about an antiques shop in this particular town that matched up with tales in the past.
Every several hundred years, this big evil would try to gain ground in our reality, he told her, to unleash its own hell on earth. And someone like him would drive it back.
Just driving into the town, they had seen quite the display of odd behavior already. Gigantic naked musclebound studs fucked gorgeous teenage girls on the sidewalk, cars askew in the street, as if the chiseled hunks had stopped driving purely to start fucking some hot babes they saw walking about.
On the other side of the street, a man came out of a shoe shop—advertising half-off all heels over five inches tall and doing booming business—with a trail of amazing beauties dressed in hot evening gowns and minidresses led along with a long rope attached to their bound wrists. Vapid, happy smiles seemed permanently affixed to their faces. Each of them, of course, wore very high platform heels in a matching shade of green.
Olivia found all of this eerie and disconcerting. It was more than enough proof that something fantastical and horrifying was happening in the town. She was somewhat concerned that she would stick out, that her comparatively nondescript appearance would draw attention to herself. She wore tight jeans, a loose blue t-shirt with her old high school wolverine logo on it, and stocky black boots that thudded as she stepped out of the SUV and toward the antique shop.
Gerald, tall and imposing, had utility belts criss-crossing over the plain white shirt on his torso, black jeans on his legs. He carried a small mechanical crossbow openly, apparently not caring if any police officers happened to see.
They entered the shop. A little bell rang. At the other end of the store stood a tall, pale, big-breasted woman dressed in a black, almost sheer gown, the straps lacy, her hips and legs totally exposed along with an enormous, narrow v running down the middle of her torso. The massive, hot flesh of her gorgeous tits so easy to see. Beautiful black locks of hair that ran down to the curve of her amazing ass. Her gorgeous face made Olivia instantly and irrationally jealous.
The pale beauty was attending a younger woman—a redhead who looked an awful lot like Olivia—and leaning over, one of her large heavy breasts resting on the redhead’s shoulders. They were both looking into a mirror together.
“You see,” Gerald whispered. “That’s her. Yasmin, the demon’s familiar. This is what I’m talking about. That’s a spell she’s casting, right now, at this very instant! That redhead has been completely entranced by her.”
Olivia considered. The redhead’s gaze did seem to be rather vacant. And her hands...oh wow.
The redhead’s hands were slipped all the way down her tiny, tight jean shorts as she stared emptily into the mirror, frantically pulsing in her pussy.
Oh, gosh. Oh, wow . It was like the redhead was
She wasn’t sure what it was about him. He was awfully gruff with her, barely saying two words at a time while he drove.
Perhaps it was his beard, so thick and unattended and wild, as black as his eyes. Or maybe it was those eyes, dark and always burning with a zealous fire that she was just completely desperate to see attuned to her body.
Maybe it was the vast inventory of weapons and totems and fetishes he had collected over his many years of hunting. In the back of his modified SUV, he had four types of crossbows, a stockade of silver bullets, plenty of silver stakes, loads of silver rods and iron rods, a chest full of crosses, three gold-plated nets, and a plethora of vials, each containing its own special serum or herb that he assured her would take care of whatever assailants came his way.
He was on the hunt for one demon in particular, he told her. An ancient evil force, one of the oldest—so old that its name had never been recorded. And he had been hearing many strange tales about an antiques shop in this particular town that matched up with tales in the past.
Every several hundred years, this big evil would try to gain ground in our reality, he told her, to unleash its own hell on earth. And someone like him would drive it back.
Just driving into the town, they had seen quite the display of odd behavior already. Gigantic naked musclebound studs fucked gorgeous teenage girls on the sidewalk, cars askew in the street, as if the chiseled hunks had stopped driving purely to start fucking some hot babes they saw walking about.
On the other side of the street, a man came out of a shoe shop—advertising half-off all heels over five inches tall and doing booming business—with a trail of amazing beauties dressed in hot evening gowns and minidresses led along with a long rope attached to their bound wrists. Vapid, happy smiles seemed permanently affixed to their faces. Each of them, of course, wore very high platform heels in a matching shade of green.
Olivia found all of this eerie and disconcerting. It was more than enough proof that something fantastical and horrifying was happening in the town. She was somewhat concerned that she would stick out, that her comparatively nondescript appearance would draw attention to herself. She wore tight jeans, a loose blue t-shirt with her old high school wolverine logo on it, and stocky black boots that thudded as she stepped out of the SUV and toward the antique shop.
Gerald, tall and imposing, had utility belts criss-crossing over the plain white shirt on his torso, black jeans on his legs. He carried a small mechanical crossbow openly, apparently not caring if any police officers happened to see.
They entered the shop. A little bell rang. At the other end of the store stood a tall, pale, big-breasted woman dressed in a black, almost sheer gown, the straps lacy, her hips and legs totally exposed along with an enormous, narrow v running down the middle of her torso. The massive, hot flesh of her gorgeous tits so easy to see. Beautiful black locks of hair that ran down to the curve of her amazing ass. Her gorgeous face made Olivia instantly and irrationally jealous.
The pale beauty was attending a younger woman—a redhead who looked an awful lot like Olivia—and leaning over, one of her large heavy breasts resting on the redhead’s shoulders. They were both looking into a mirror together.
“You see,” Gerald whispered. “That’s her. Yasmin, the demon’s familiar. This is what I’m talking about. That’s a spell she’s casting, right now, at this very instant! That redhead has been completely entranced by her.”
Olivia considered. The redhead’s gaze did seem to be rather vacant. And her hands...oh wow.
The redhead’s hands were slipped all the way down her tiny, tight jean shorts as she stared emptily into the mirror, frantically pulsing in her pussy.
Oh, gosh. Oh, wow . It was like the redhead was
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