There was no response. She just slid down my shaft, all oak-hard, seven-plus inches of it. I lay there, watching her gyrate and listening to her moan ...s she rode me, thinking that if she was going to treat my dick as just another dildo, then I should be grateful that it was my dick and not someone else's – like maybe Boris.Once she'd climaxed, she collapsed onto my chest, her double-D breasts mashed between us, her stiff nipples digging into my skin and my hard dick still inside her. I put my. Certainly, more than a few hours hadpassed since I'd left the house in search of the strange music.The circumstances surrounding my disappearance also seemed strange.The abandoned car with just enough blood to raise suspicions seemedless like any "subtlety of magic" and more like Madam Egeskovestablishing some sort of premise for her vengeance. I wondered howmuch else she had manipulated toward her own ends.I was vacuuming the master bedroom, now, and I caught movement in thefull-length mirror. More

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