Now Chantal's eyes were rolling, almost catatonic. Henrietta was kneeling before Desiree, her favourite gunmen next to her, reclining easily, sleepily... It had been a hard night. Exciting and fast and pleasurable, but he was tired, and sipping a drink. Desiree was laying back, legs splayed, looking dreamy as the RV roared down the interstate. Now she began to talk, a little spittle running down her mouth, in a voice so soft, it carried venomous evil. "Slut, do you know what I'm going to do with. His sharp teeth drag across the length of my colorless neck, marking my flesh, making me moan with the pleasure that only he can give. I have longed to feel the sweet razor like edge of those teeth as they pull and tear my flesh, I want the grip of his masterfull, musically talented hands pulling my darkly hued locks, forcing my head back, my lips pointed upwards for his. I want him to take my bottom lip between his and pull, nibble, and lick it. I want to feel the unforgiving cold of. More

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