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Personal? After all, I hate giving away plot spoilers before I develop them.”“Lady, I don’t have the slightest clue who you are, but I’m trying to confirm what I hear your inspiration saying.”She cocked her head, but decided to entertain him. “I’m working on a zombie alternative screenplay and—”“and you’re playing with ideas of zombie romances, makeup and sex between the living and the undead?”“Yeah, how did you—?”“Trust me, keep listening to their advice. If you decide to give up on writing, or your issues overwhelm your creativity, call me. I’ll take away both. It’s your choice.”“Whoa! Harsh advice,” Melissa said, surprising Phil, who hadn’t been aware she was eavesdropping. “My clients often tell me they won’t surrender their suffering at the expense of their art.”He started to turn away when Marla reached out, grasping his arm.“Wait. While writing is vital to my life, I’ve been unable to write for some time. If my creativity is tied to my illness, then if you could ... say, trim. He beat and hammered her taut bottom, unleashing all his pent-up sexual aggression, until finally Keaira spit out her panties and screamed. “Oh fuck Daddy! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I’m going to cum!” Her body convulsed below him in a seizure of ecstasy. And Spike howled in rapturous euphoria as he expelled his hot load with the violent force of a discharging plasma-cannon. He would not be shocked nor ashamed if he found she had died at the moment of their climax. For the intensity with which he erupted within her had surely drawn the attention of all the libidinous gods and devils. He lay there atop her, breathing heavy, his heart pounding, with his cock still buried between her ass cheeks. His mind was pleasantly blank with the high of flooding endorphins. After his breath had returned to him, his heart rate slowed, and his consciousness reemerged from the post-orgasm heavenly void, Spike opened his eyes lazily with euphoric exhaustion and rose from the bed. He was bemused to find the.
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