zoophobia camilla

He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”

“Well, with all the treatment you’ve given me since I arrived, I’m probably ahead of schedule. I can’t thank you enough for that. So, shall we all head to the Knight’s Sheath? I’m craving a drink and some good music.” She then began to laugh and stood behind Noah, rubbing his shoulders. “To think I’d reach this point in my life, spending all these evenings down in a brothel. You’re a horrible influence on me.”“You aren’t nearly as innocent as you pretend to be,” he teased.

“Ooof! There we go,” I announced, as Bruce finally managed to pull himself free, causing an audible 'plop' and a rush of hot, wet doggie-cum down my thighs. “See, told you it wouldn't be long,” I said, as Bruce went to go curl up in the corner and lick himself clean. I stood up, and headed straight for the bed. “Lay back, Mom! Your turn again!”