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.. Oh, you're FUCKING me so GOOD--oh, Chahlie, I'm going to come AGAIN..." He felt half insane, demented, torn between mind-breaking joy and hellish agony. She was here, he was fucking her, but she loved someone else.He somehow remembered what to do and say."What do you have on, Carol?" he asked breathlessly as he pumped his dick in her gushing, twitching pussy. "Nothing," she gasped. "Nothing at all... I'm naked... All I have on is your dick... I'm naked for you to fuck..."Another half an hour passed, the strangest and best and most painful of his life. It seemed to last forever, and at the same time to be over in seconds. Charlie finally let it all out, sobbing and shaking, crying in her hair, inhaling its familiar, aching scent and keening in despair even as he was shooting his heart out into her wet, grasping, squeezing pussy. She only held him after, stroking his back and saying nothing as he cried into her bare breasts. There was nothing to say. Carol did not analyze what she. ’ ‘Really? Let me see.’ Suspended in Ned’s supporting hug, Paula rubbed her hand soothingly on his crotch. Her other hand took a macaroon from the counter tray. ‘I made cookies’ she said. She offered him a nibble as she continued the slow sensuous rub on his groin. ‘I don’t want cookies, I want nookies.’ he said. His hand swept the cookie tray off the far edge of the counter and it clattered to the floor. He pulled the apron ties and lifted the neck loop offer her head. He palmed her ass cheeks and lifted her butt onto the table edge. He grasped her ankles and elevated her legs, resting them either side on his shoulders. His hands rumbled between Paula’s thighs, gripping her panties and tearing them apart at the sides. He braced her legs again, cupping her ass cheeks. He dove in. His tongue licked her labia, using his finest cunnilingus expertise. Paula lay back on the countertop, staring at the ceiling, her eyes and mouth opening and closing in silent appreciation as Ned worked her.
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‘Professor, you are wrong,’ the boy said as the whole room turned to look at him. ‘I saw the end. And what I saw is nothing like anything we have ever seen before. I came here so you could be warn.’ ‘Why would you want to warn me?’ John asked with a hint of fear in his voice. The young man closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek. ‘Because John Carliye you are the cause of it. And you have to be stopped,’ the boy said as he pulled out a gun and fired three bullets right into the heart of John Carliye. — CHAPTER ONE… John Carliye woke up with a cold sweat covering his body, his heart racing a million miles an hour and his head pounding from the attack. The dreams came every night and they were never the same. Sometimes it was the strange boy pulling out the Glock-38 and firing, and other times it was HIM. The man that has haunted John’s dream since the first time they meet when he was only thirteen years old. Sometimes after he would wake up from the dreams John would.

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