He didn’t want to fight her … he had no desire whatsoever. Like any smart vampire he’d take the second he could to run away or outsmart her, fig...ting a Slayer was just suicide. He watched her closely and spoke, his voice deep and rustic. It was an old English dialect accent … sounding almost Roman but not quite. He regarded her warily as he spoke, ‘I’m not who you think I am.’ He knew it must’ve sounded rather dumb to the slayer considering he wore the mask of a vampire and had the fangs. ‘It’s. With care he examined it all, even up under the shaft, his hands fondled the soft but heavy balls, the shaft stiffening with every touch. “Enough, change over,” her voice like a command, wordlessly they exchanged positions, Ian`s fingers rolling back the skin, his eyes on the lads eyes as he did so, his soft office workers hands tracing the stiff shaft, then slipping to the smaller balls, hidden in the soft crinkly bag. Her voice said, “stand,” they stood, facing one another, the command, “cup. More

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