There was a sickening sensation of claws on bone. The beast looked just as delighted. I whimpered. Sharp fingers clawed at the firm flesh of my rear, ...treaks of blood following them. The beast dipped his fingers into the blood that pooled in the wounds of my chest. My brain followed the conclusion of that gesture before I'd fully realised it."Oh no," I tried to wriggle away from him, "No. Don't. Don't do this to me!"Fingers warm and wet with my own blood circled my rim and the devil beast. She was hot and sweaty and smelled of sex. My chin rested in the crack at the base of her spine and my tongue probed her ass. She had her arms wrapped around me and she gripped my ass cheeks tightly. With my hands I was holding her slippery pussy open. Her vagina was gaping and glistened with semen.Ahmeed stood above us pushing his hard dick down towards my wifes upturned pussy, his legs bent at the knees and she squelched as he lowered himself into her. So close that I struggled to focus on. We walked to one of the local bars that even at 6PM were already getting pretty wild. I looked around the room and saw so many young people, yelling and laughing and drinking. I longed for those wild irresponsible days. We sat and had a few drinks with my husband barely talking to me. He seemed more interested in what was going on at all the other tables. I got up to go to the bathroom and as I exited the restroom, I bumped into a tall young man. He smiled at me and said. "Well excuse me.". He was quiet, for a teacher at least, but then again, some of us were quiet for students.Part of why we liked Mr. Rampton -- and probably why he wasn’t hitched -- was his penchant for strange things, which to us made him not strange at all. We’d go down the halls humming, “When You’re Strange” by the Doors -- they were this old band -- Mr. Rampton knew the words, too, but he wouldn’t sing in the hall.Mr. Rampton liked McDonald’s hamburgers, black and white movies and his VW Beetle that actually.
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