The beast, resembling a huge wolf, had charged across the stage, jumped down into the now terrified and screaming crowd, grabbed the two Arabs, and torn their throats out.Then, the wolf had disappeared, most probably with the body of one of the priests who had unfortunately got shot. She had almost certainly instantly died and was identified as a famous artist, Grace Darling.Grace’s body was never found but a large memorial service was held in her honor. However, the funeral of Maureen was a smaller, private affair, and executed to the Wiccan traditions.A strange woman took over the Wiccan coven known only as Diana. Strange, because no one knew where she came from or her surname. She had Egyptian features but there was some likeness in her features to the late Grace Darling Williams. She was, however, gorgeous who would have won any Beauty Contest. It was difficult to identify her age. Her long, yellow hair that hung down her back, her penetrating dark eyes and a musical voice that. Finally I was done, slowly I parted my thighs and pulled my thong to one side, dipping my fingers into my juices felt heavenly. In a moment of uncontrolled lust I got up, slid my thong down and stepped out of them. With one hand up behind me pumping the marker in and out of my ass, I lifted one high-heel up onto the chair, while my other hand was buried in my pussy. I wanted my Master to see what his little slut was doing, I wanted to feel his eyes on me, his desire for me lighting his eyes, I wanted to show him just how slutty I could be, bringing my fingers to my mouth and sucking on them before returning them back to my melting snatch. I wanted to beg for release, to plead for an orgasm, bending over the desk, rubbing my clit against the edge of the desk I snapped a picture of my ass still penetrated with the thick whiteboard marker. My pussy was grinding against the desk, spreading juices everywhere, I hopped up on the desk, leant back, spread my legs and attacked my pussy,.
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