Lucy the blonde harlot

    The noise was a constant buzz like a fly hovering over her in circles admiring the motivtation for a lady, respected as royalty among the guild. The wand slid vertically inside, bobbing to the pace of her arms, not a second out of rythym, pulsating with pixy dust. She keeps it sychronized for the beleif of a pure, devilish however you look at it, into a climax wild for the lack of a worthy cock from the other wizards in the guild. Leaving home, she wondered if her prince would come for her hand, as such contrary to fairy tales did not exist for her. she knew who the closest thing to a boyfreind she had was the ginger kid who she beleived had autism but had played it cool. It was her own arragonce which brought her into the depression raged drug binge from the night before.  

The Night Before

    The bar stools were filled up various men and women flirting and chatting through the steins and wine glasses. Among each other not a single had not tantalized themselves to the wicked taste of the firewater. Some of the men wore their unforms from the mission they previously attempted. I say attempted because nobody has been able to complete a mission for months now. It was discovered by anonymous tip from a celestial being, the leader of the clan had lost himself into a game of cards with an unnamed tycoon. He was targeted as an gambling addict only uncovered by a burnt paper trail, sniffed out like a rescue team deployed to find the rising smoke. 

    "Baby im tired of the distance, promise me you arent lying when you say i can taste," cigarette enfused talk splurred from the mouth of the wizard fourth stool form the corner seat. The girl he spoked too was an insatiable georgian woman, black hair straight like silk from the chinese panties she hid in her shorts. Stirring her drink, Lucy sat across the room next to the mirrored wall for her easy conveinence of blushing when she thought she wasnt underwatch from a squinted growler peeling her clothes off daydreaming in a loud room such as the guilds bar. through the mirror she watched the georgian woman next to her mate, her crotch upon his while he leans back against the table. Descency wasnt the problem for lucy, jealousy is a powerful attribute the female inhereited and practices to near death senteces in the socially driven minds of these girls. She knew they couple would return to their dorm for a chocolate sex. The sex that engulfs your taste buds, ready for spanking the woman unitl she cums. Domination is primary into the sweet sex, she knew the pericing sand tattoos on the womans sleeves was pinup art as a 50's model. The tell tale sign of a woman meant for a man. Lucy was mostly in romantic sex, she kept it clean and orginized and refused to exlpore danger on her own. The taste of long lasting cream in the waters of her mouth. She too daydreamed liked the others of lust to play with each other but too her disappointment she sat across the autistic fire glow in nazus eyes, not knowing of what other possibilities other men could enduce. Lucy doing her makeup in the mirror, catches nazu staring down the top of her orange top, it was a red dress, red dark like the menstruation fluid that was in her at the time, that kept beauty into any harlot who wore. Pushing the breast upwards nearer to the mans face enticing him even more.