Now that she'd gotten it home, she was oddly hesitant. She stood it on her nightstand and turned on the shower.When she got out, warm and flushed and ...ink, it was waiting patiently. Sleek. Unyielding. Implacable. There would be no give to it, no warmth other than what traces her own body might impart.She shivered.Allison peeled back the covers and sat on the edge of her bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dresser and paused. Slowly, she parted her legs. Her reflected pussy. John let her wife do as she pleased, because, if trouble was going to come, he thought that it would surely wait until the storm was over. He watched his wife go to the living room, her light blue, ankle-length dress swaying. She is a beautiful one, even to this day... His thoughts trailed.Claire let her eyes sweep over the rustic living room. Then heard the light, but firm, knock again. She could hear the wind and the hail crash into the house, and her husband's question came to her mind as. More

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