Author: | Chelsea Rockner | ISBN: | 1230000134482 |
Publisher: | Chelsea Rockner | Publication: | May 20, 2013 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Chelsea Rockner |
ISBN: | 1230000134482 |
Publisher: | Chelsea Rockner |
Publication: | May 20, 2013 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
Carrie can't believe her luck when an antique dealer gives her a tentacle sculpture . Things get stranger when she finds out not only did it 'choose her,' but its not a sculpture at all, but a magic dildo! Will the tentacles the object summons be too much for her, or is there a way to soothe the beast after all?
Warning: This Adults Only story contains anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, and lots of tentacle action! 6,124 words.
Excerpt:
It started when she was asleep. Usually she wore pajama pants and a tank top, but she stripped them off in her sleep until she was only clad in her pink and white striped panties. The room itself was broiling. In her murky thoughts, Carrie wondered if something was wrong with the basement furnace. The air was also different, and usually sweet with a jasmine scent. Maybe the girl living below had her hippy boyfriend over again to burn all the incense.
Laying belly-down among coiled sheets, she tried to decide if she should get up to see what was going on downstairs or not. All over her body was covered in a light sweat, and her breaths were becoming heavier in the heat and in taking in that strange scent. She didn't want to go, and couldn't remember the last time her bed felt so good. It felt great having her bare skin against the slightly cooler knots of fabric that bunched up against the bottoms of her breasts, and nested about her crotch and between her thighs.
Screw getting dressed. She thought she was getting used to the heat just fine. Just then, something cool brushed her ankle, before tracing up her leg and swirling about a calf, pressing it in a delicious squeeze like a professional masseuse would.
Carrie didn't know what was going on, she didn't care. She knew there was no way gravity had made her blankets move like that. This must be one of those lucid dreams what's-her-name's hippy boyfriend was always taking about. Something cool and long was entwined between her legs, spiraling about her limbs, almost as if it was sizing her up, testing her reactions, tasting her. There was a light texture to it, like reptile skin, but overall, it was too smooth and featureless to be human hands, too thick and strong to be a human c**k. The thing touching her was clearly tube-like, with a taper near the tip, and soon she realized it was not alone.
Carrie can't believe her luck when an antique dealer gives her a tentacle sculpture . Things get stranger when she finds out not only did it 'choose her,' but its not a sculpture at all, but a magic dildo! Will the tentacles the object summons be too much for her, or is there a way to soothe the beast after all?
Warning: This Adults Only story contains anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, and lots of tentacle action! 6,124 words.
Excerpt:
It started when she was asleep. Usually she wore pajama pants and a tank top, but she stripped them off in her sleep until she was only clad in her pink and white striped panties. The room itself was broiling. In her murky thoughts, Carrie wondered if something was wrong with the basement furnace. The air was also different, and usually sweet with a jasmine scent. Maybe the girl living below had her hippy boyfriend over again to burn all the incense.
Laying belly-down among coiled sheets, she tried to decide if she should get up to see what was going on downstairs or not. All over her body was covered in a light sweat, and her breaths were becoming heavier in the heat and in taking in that strange scent. She didn't want to go, and couldn't remember the last time her bed felt so good. It felt great having her bare skin against the slightly cooler knots of fabric that bunched up against the bottoms of her breasts, and nested about her crotch and between her thighs.
Screw getting dressed. She thought she was getting used to the heat just fine. Just then, something cool brushed her ankle, before tracing up her leg and swirling about a calf, pressing it in a delicious squeeze like a professional masseuse would.
Carrie didn't know what was going on, she didn't care. She knew there was no way gravity had made her blankets move like that. This must be one of those lucid dreams what's-her-name's hippy boyfriend was always taking about. Something cool and long was entwined between her legs, spiraling about her limbs, almost as if it was sizing her up, testing her reactions, tasting her. There was a light texture to it, like reptile skin, but overall, it was too smooth and featureless to be human hands, too thick and strong to be a human c**k. The thing touching her was clearly tube-like, with a taper near the tip, and soon she realized it was not alone.