She stepped out of them in the same calm, dignfiied way. I saw rather pale but nice thighs and a hell of a good show of arse-flesh, better even than I...could have anticipated from its denim-packaged state. Then I saw our focal point for the job head — my guess had been correct: hairy. I had to consciously make myself breathe slow and easy. I had to remind myself not to enjoy it too much, at least not to show it. It was a service only, an agreement, albeit an unusual and risque one, between two. She pecked it with her finger. “‘Rule one: She who pulls it, uses it.’”Allyson asked, “And if Fatema pulls out a weed-whacker? She has to whack in front of everyone right now?”“I’m certain there isn’t a weed-whacker in the sack, Al,” Fatema chuckled and added, “Just put the horn on.”“On my head?”“The way it was meant to be used,” sighed Fatema, nodding. Peri chirped, “Do the horn, Al!” Beaten, Allyson donned the mystical spiral spike on her forehead. Along with her antlers, silvery-blonde hair,. More

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