She said she didn’t remember much. She just needed a man to ‘scratch an itch’ as she called it. After unbuttoning my shirt, she helped me out of...it, kissing my chest as she attacked my uniform trousers, practically yanking them off me. There I sat boxer’s tented, her fingers fishing my stiffening prick from my shorts. “Ooh! A nice, big one!” she said in that delightful English accent, before kissing the head, smearing the clear liquid that had formed at my piss slit. She licked at it like a. It was clever, but not too clever, relying on character flaws in each of the coven members, mostly dark secrets each held deep inside them that I'd discovered while listening to their thoughts. What I liked most about the plan was its non-violent nature - well, almost non-violent. Melville would die, but none of us would do the actual killing.We decided to start our campaign after the planning session instead of waiting for morning.Helen Deaver was the first contact on our list. She was. More

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