Pushing the blonde locks out of her eyes and sitting up, she surveys the damage of the room. Definitely not a dream. If the delicious ache of her body...wasn't enough to prove that, her damaged clothing certainly was.She had expected to wake up alone. What she hadn't expected was how it would make her feel. Stretching, she climbs from bed. The sound of a key in the lock sends her stumbling over the sheet for the closest weapon. Her shotgun.Dean shakes his head. Tossing a pastry bag on the table. They will pray for my unholy soul in church Sunday; I just know it.The blue hairs scared my engorged clit back into hiding, so I head to the fruit market, my next errand. I notice him as soon as I reach the grapefruit stand. His strong hands carefully select the round fruits, and squeeze and massage. My tits tingle, thinking about his hands groping my plumpy breasts. Oh my, his hands are large, forecasting what lies below inside his baggy trousers. My nipples strain against my bra, begging to. More

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