While the shower was more distracting than the bath, my hands had a habit of wandering across my seriously aroused body. Soaped fingers slipped easily...into my womanly well, stoking the unquenchable furnace within as water pounded my quiver breasts. I closed my eyes, thighs trembling under the strain, feeling the heat rising as my fingers worked feverishly to feed my hunger. A plunge, a gasp and my legs turn weak as a roll of pleasure rocks my body.After luxuriating in the shower for well over. I took my razor, cut a short slice on my forearm, dipped my finger in the running warm blood and wrote, on the bathroom wall, a 口, the character for mouth, hoping the severed arm would stick itself in there instead...When I got to the cafeteria, Marco was dressed in a long, flowing red robe with gold trim, wearing several sets of bright green bead necklaces and had a crown of thorns and chicken feathers on his head. He was drinking a cup of chicken blood mixed with herbs.“Omiero,” he said,. More

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