The cheerleader wanted to punch the wall with frustration. She needed to be fucked, to feel the demon’s muscular body pressing against hers, to bath... in his scent.As she looked around, a smile slowly crept onto her face. Yes, she’d just been rejected ... and no, it obviously wouldn’t be the same ... but here she was, in Michael’s house, surrounded by his stuff.Surrounded by his musk.She could lay naked on his bed and get herself off, his demon pheromones filling her nostrils.And then, she could. My heart started pounding, fear snaking through my stomach. After all, I had just met him. What if he was a serial killer? “I’m not, baby, I promise,” he said, confirming that "yes", I had indeed just spoken aloud. He reached across the seat and scooped me up, putting me on his lap. My knees were on either side of his hips, and my dripping wet panties were hovering just above his crotch. The fabric of my skirt brushed across his thighs, then the top of my hips as he pushed the material up and. More

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