You don'tneed three guesses to know my answer.I asked him what I have to do for him. He said that in cases like thishe usually asked for the souls of ...eople he helped, but he already hadmy soul. I then knew who he was.All I knew was that I would do almost anything, no...I would do ANYTHINGto get the hell out of there, spending the rest of my life in prison wasnot on my priority list.He told me that he could arrange for me to just walk out the door andtake a bus to the bus depot on the other. Well, I'm no rocket scientist, but something strange had definitely happened. I was almost afraid to look down at myself. No, that's wrong; I was DEFINITELY afraid to look down at myself. But I screwed up my courage and did it anyway. The first thing I noticed, strangely, was that my feet had shrunk. Hell, EVERYTHING had shrunk. My arms and legs had lost almost all their muscle; they looked as thin as toothpicks. My boxers were hanging much lower on my hips. My hips themselves didn't. He was in my arms in seconds using his whole body to further arouse my senses.James was indeed a master at the art of love in that to him it was the joy of his life. To reach that joy he was a supreme strategist. He had once told me he had studied Sun Tzu’s famous text ‘The Art of War’ and to him, each lovemaking bout was a battle to be won. “When the enemy is relaxed, make them toil. When full, starve them. When settled, make them move,” was one of his favorite quotes and he indeed employed. When I finally reached her panties, MJ was trembling in excitement, and could barely stood her ground. Her knees were buckling and she was trying so hard to keep her thighs together to stop dripping through her panties.We were both completely clueless on how to do things properly but it was the beauty of it. The whole discovery phase of trying to find ways to make each other feel good was so arousing. MJ was so wet we had to take off her panties. It was a cute white panty with pink trims and.
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She is almost to the door when her teacher stops her. “Elizabeth, could I talk to you?” Elizabeth groans softly; she is a flood of emotions. She
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