New York City…the future did not go as planned.
Hector Hostile navigated his chromed out monster truck RAMROD through the chaotic streets of Brooklyn. Carefully his onboard computer monitored the streets through the use of satellite imagery that mapped out detours as they were required. High above the Earth were the eyes and ears of the world, the only way to keep in contact with the civilized nations across the planet. Every major city had safehouses to call home some more than one to seek protection in. To house the necessary needs of the humans that fought to return those unhuman to normal. An impossible task currently. Yet, hope remained optimistic. The future would be brighter.
“I’m within the five block perimeter of Fort Apache. Deactivate the Spinal Column, Templar.”
“Aye Laddie! Welcome home Triple H!” Even the Scotsman Temple Lachlan who ran security protocols for the Fort had a fondness for headlocks.
“Ale on Friday?”
“Me wife be brewin’ Mead as we chatter Boyo.”
“…and Drunk by the time you get off.” Hector chuckled.
“Matters not! She be frisky when the jug be tipped.”
“Tell Laila I said howdy!”
Hector continued onward noting beacons along street corners turn from red to green like regular street lights. Each light that changed allowed Hector to move forward to the next block. Should the light not have changed then laser relays would have crisscrossed beams that would have cut anything in its path in half and manhole mines would blow the remainder to high heaven. Not to mention the sewer grids would expel a special cocktail of sewer gas that would kill you within seconds of being inhaled. It was necessary to protect Fort Apache safehouse at all cost. Yes that Fort Apache the Precinct, yet added on to. The fortifications were off the charts. The memory of those who served with shields still about but many of the brave were long gone. Other precincts around the city as they say…held the Fort. Within it’s many walls were the hardworking humans and scientists determined to keep the memory alive. Only the most trusted of APOZ , ANEGs, and BPOZ were allowed to coexist with the TYPOs. TYPO’s being totally human still.
Fort Apache consisted of any building within a five block radius connected with underground tunnels and walkways above ground. The buildings themselves were designed and reinforced to withstand exterior weather and damage that any intruders might inflict in trying to break through the barriers. Everything within them was arranged to keep humanity alive. The future was now. As good as it gets!
With a speed bump array decidedly uncomfortable Sister Mary Valentine woke up with a start. Hector peripherally glanced at her yet kept his eyes glued on the light changes. “Bad dream?”
She inhales deeply with her eyes closed for a moment, “Wouldn’t you have bad dreams having lived like I had the last year or more?”
He smiles faintly, “Been there done that! Fort Apache wasn’t built overnight. We all struggled to survive. Sure it’s much easier now because we’ve adapted to our surroundings and made existence tolerable. Just be glad I found you when I did.”
She folds her arms over her chest then looks up through the windshield toward the sky. “You block out the sky with glowing nets?” Her question no more than asked when she spots a flash of electricity fry something above the net.
Hector grinned sheepishly, “Pigeons! That or Flies. Or mosquitos. Who knows? Could be Pterodactyls.”
She marvels at the bypass security, ” This really is a safe haven?”
“Close as it can get to one V.”
She raises an eyebrow, “V”?
“Sorry, Sister!” He chuckled, “Anything else I call you is a mouthful. I’m gonna stick with V if you don’t mind. For Valentine!”
She frowns, “Fine! I’m not so sure being a Nun has much merit these days anyway.”
He shrugs lightly, “Don’t sell yourself short. Bad habits can change. No offense and pardon the pun yet again.”
She giggles gently, “Nun taken.” With a devilish grin he found her soul.
“Nice to smile again, isn’t it?”
She puckers, “I suppose it is. Thank you again.” A breath later, “Are we there yet?” She needed to pee.
He points at one last block cairn switching lights, “Last call.”
As soon as RAMROD passed through Hector turned into a parking garage and followed it upward two stories. Coming to a halt amid various other vehicles he shuts the truck down. Turning to her he clasps his palms together in a soft clap, “Home sweet home Sister V! Let’s get you settled in and cleaned up. Plenty of friends here to meet when you’re ready.” Opening his door he clicks the canopy over the truck bed releasing Ozzie and Harriet. After Hector drops to the concrete floor he offers the Nun a hand down, graciously accepted.
Standing beside Hector as he shuts the door she feels warm exhales on her hand. Behind her the female tiger Harriet had sniffed the cat hairs on her clothing. Hector eying Harriet sighs. “She smells Father Timmons on you. Curiosity killed the cat I guess.”
He shoos Harriet away as the big cat darts along through the other vehicles. V finding Ozzie transporting her Mentor reaches down to touch the covered corpse of Mother Superior shedding a tear. Hector in turn places a hand on her shoulder. “Ozzie? Dr. Stone’s lab. Go!” The male tiger grumbles and bolts away. She trembles under Hector’s touch and cautiously steps forward from it.
“Forgive me.” He points out, “I’m only sharing my concern.”
She smiles brightly but trembled none the less, “I know that, Hector. I’m afraid that this past year has put my nerves on edge.”
He turns away from her understanding completely. Hearing footsteps approach, a raven haired woman with the most stunning body in a three block vicinity closed in on them, “Welcome home. How’s our refugee?” Definitely a British accent.
Hector frowns, “Morgana Knight? This is Sister Mary Valentine.”
The woman in red leather from head to heel smirks with a hint of jealousy, “Lovely.”
Reaching out to grab Morgana by the chin Hector forced their shared gaze to lock without blinking, “Be nice! Get the Sister here settled in. Nice hot bath and some food. Have Dr. Lucien give her a physical.”
Morgana pulls from his grasp smirking, “Candlelit dinner at my place as I offered earlier? I’ll fire up the hot tub.”
“Sure! The Sister and I will be there at 8:00.” Morgana drops her jaw and bites her response. “Follow me.” Morgana marches away leaving Hector to pull V close as if her guardian angel.
“Don’t sweat her jealousy. She’s harmless. I was joking about the hot tub at 8 offer.” A pause, he rethinks his opinion, “Ehhh? Iffy! See you soon.” Hesitantly Sister Mary Valentine trails behind Morgana. Hector observed her stress and mumbled, “Bet she cleans up nice!”
Removing his headset and gauntlet he tosses them up into the drivers seat of RAMROD before sealing the door. Starting for a pathway in the opposite direction he spots the glare of welding from the far end of the garage. With a glint in his eye he heads into the light squinting against the brilliance. Scooted beneath the chassis of a smaller version of RAMROD on a rolling board was a man in a yellow jumpsuit. Above him working under a raised hood was a large framed man with extraordinarily hairy arms. Hector mischievously tapped the hood prop dropping the hood on to the back of the guy leaning in.
“What the bloody hell?”
The hood flew back up under a muscled arm as the bulky man stood erect. Glaring over at Hector he snapped, “I should have known it’d be you Tough Guy. You trying to give me a heart attack?”
Hector stared into the face of a humanoid Gorilla wearing dark glasses to assist against the glare of the welding beneath the engine well. “Just trying to keep you on your knuckles Big Ape.”
The Gorilla huffed with a cheesy grin, “Don’t piss me off with those racist remarks cause I’m black.” A slap on the Ape’s hairy back showed the man that his friendship was very important.
“Don’t let Heater singe your fur Aperaham. How about we grab a banana split later? You can gnaw on my peels.”
The Ape hissed, “I’ll shove the whip cream can up your ass. You can cream your own genes!”
Hector steps back, “Whoa now Mister Silverbak! I’m not into bestiality.”
Big Ape guffaws, “Yeah, right! Tell that to the Pussycat you have waiting in your bedroom.”
Raising a single brow Hector hissed, “Let me guess, Persia’s back.”
Big Ape nods feverishly, “Cat came home while you were gone. Trouble making wench for sure. Should just lock her out of Fort Apache for good.” Beneath their feet the man under the car slides out and sits up on the cart with his jumpsuit dangling over his waist. He was Hispanic and resembled the old actor John Leguizamo. His flesh was a light scarlet hue which was due to his overactive skin cells increasing the heat of his body to nearly a boiling point should he lose control. To touch him would burn your skin.
Shutting off his welding torch and lifting his specialized goggles he winces up at them, “With a body like hers? Big Ape you’re turning queer. Persia’s soft fur raises my body temperature.” Both Aperaham Silverbak and Hector roll their eyes.
“What doesn’t raise your body temp?” Aperaham snarls as he pulls a cigar from his shirt pocket and leans down to light it on Heater’s forehead engulfing him in puffs of smoke. Waving it away out of disgust for nicotine Heater aka Julio Montoya scowled.
“Hey! I’m Hispanic, not Cuban. Anyways, can we get this job done before dinner? Vera’s frying flapjacks on my back later.”
“I don’t know how you don’t blow the place up working around fuel Julio.” Hector chuckled, “You even need that welding rod? Use your fingers.”
“Naaaa! Trying to keep my cool Man!” Understatement!
Hector groans, “Ever notice this place gets freakier every day? I’ll let you guys get back to work. Poker night, Wednesday right?”
Heater chuckles using a finger to point out features on his body, “Only if Persia shaves her…everywhere.”
Aperaham dabs his cigar with a finger equally as thick as his stogie, fluttering ashes over Heater, “She doesn’t wear clothing now. Without her fur she’s nekkid. Just use your imagination you pervert.”
Heater evilly grins up at them, “That’s my point. I love a hairless pussy.”
Hector turns away after swiping one of Silverbak’s other cigars stashed in a sleeve pocket, “She won’t stay long. Never does! Cat’s like the outside world. See you guys later. I’ve gotta check in with Doc Stone on the body I just brought back. Might be we stumbled on to a secret weapon.”
Big Ape chomps his cigar between his teeth and nods, “I like secret weapons.” Hector knew so directly. If not for Big Ape prepping his rides with armaments, his survival on the outside world might never be as careful as it was. As Hector moved on he could only smirk at the bellow Big Ape let out as Heater merely touched his toes, giving him a hot foot. Singed fur left a nasty odor.
********
Shuffling through an enclosed bridge connecting the buildings of Fort Apache, Morgana Knight led Sister Valentine across the courtyard below to an adjacent shelter used for housing. Down in the courtyard were children playing on swings, merry-go-rounds, rocking horses and the like. It made the Sister pause and smile at how well this place treated the next generation.
“They are beautiful, so full of life even knowing the horrors outside this place.” She spoke as Morgana stopped to retrace her steps with a perturbed sigh. With the Sister ignoring her in her joy of youthful exploration, which included Teachers obviously down there to supervise them. One Teacher in particular noted Valentine and smiled, offering a wave of friendship. Morgana in her impatience realized who it was that was waving up at Valentine and grinned. A hand brought up to her lips Morgana parted her fingers and wagged her tongue between the V symbol. Sister Valentine noticed her actions and flared her eyes. A second glare down at the Teacher found her repeating the hand motion. The only difference was that the stunning Teacher expressed a six inch tongue like a lizard. That ended the Sister’s interest.
“That’s Wagnes! She loves my pussy.” Agnes actually but the wagging tongue made for a humorous moniker. “I’m sure she would love to help you out when the time is right.” That British accent was extremely sexy if it weren’t for her obvious decision to be a bitch. “Cum along! Don’t dally!” Resuming her guided tour of nothing in particular Sister Valentine suffered a sadness at what this place might become. So far only Hector seemed kind and caring.
Reaching a flight of stairs they moved upward to a sealed door. Morgana delicately hiding her code key behind her delicious build punches a pad out of sight of the Sister’s eyes on purpose. Her trust level was next to none. Sister Valentine could have cared less. She was just glad to find civilization. If that was what this was. How could she not have heard of this place, these people?
As the door opened Morgana looked over her shoulder at V, “This is home. You will stay in this building until someone comes to take you to see Dr. Lucien.” The Nun nods without a word, continuing to follow her guides footsteps. As they pass through the corridor a variety of other inhabitants welcome her with hesitant smiles. It was good to see normal people again. Passing by a large picture window with a thick pane she glances in to see a sole inhabitant within an open room. There were no furnishings only a padded white wall with matching floor. The man was a middle aged bald African American with a silver goatee. The weirdness of him was that he had four arms. She connected the room to a cell at a sanitarium. That normal people comment went out…well…in through the window.
Morgana halts rolling her eyes as she noted the woman’s persistent observations. Edging back to lean over her shoulder Morgana whispers, “That’s Tobias. He’s an APOZ. He meditates over 80 % of his day then works out in the gym the other 20 %. Strange fellow but very wise, when he volunteers conversation. Please keep up!”
Sister Valentine sighs and lowers her gaze to join her obnoxious tour guide. At the end of the hall Morgana opens a door on her left, “Here’s Club Bed! Cot, books, and private bath, closet you can hang your Habit and Evil. Not much else.”
“Evil?”
“Did I say evil? I meant veil.” Her smirk revealed her intended snide remark, “There’s a theater down stairs, gymnasium, sauna, nursery, etcetera. You can see for yourself when you get the clearance to roam about. You will not go about wandering the housing until Dr. Lucien gives you a clean bill of health. Go shower, I’ll find you a suitable set of clothing. We look to be the same size almost.” Sister V brightens up at her generosity. “No leather of course. Mine all mine!”
“Thank you so much. I own nothing but my tunic.”
Morgana coyly grins, “Anything for a friend of my darling Hector.”
Twisting on her heel Morgana departs allowing Valentine to step inside and check out her domicile. Sitting down on the cot she finds it hard and with squeaky springs, but at least the sheets were clean. Standing up she strolls about glancing at the books on a small wooden bookcase. Other than a few classics by Poe, the rest were romance novels of a bygone era. Not even a Bible!
Fidgeting she journeys to a tiny bathroom with a toilet, a small single sink, and a cramped shower. A rectangular mirror was mounted above the sink. A single towel and washcloth draped over a silver towel rod. Staring at her roughness in the mirror she pouts. Gentle fingers are lifted upward to remove her scapular and cowl taking it out to her bedroom. She concluded it might be in her best interest to lock her door before going any further. From the doorknob she stepped back and dangled her cowl over a tattered but comfy chair.
Cautiously she set out to remove her entire robe leaving her in only for better terms, Granny panties. Her bra had long since broken and been discarded back at the Church. A chill overcame her body, reviving nipples with an eerie sensitivity that forced her to shiver and cover them with folded arms. Eyes darting about in worry there might be hidden cameras testing her allegiance and routine. While her privacy might not be available she did hope for the respect she might be given. If there were cameras they were very well hidden.
Shuffling to the bathroom while cupping her 36C’s she shuts the bathroom door and does a secondary search for camera possibilities. Surely they would not spy on her private moments…would they?
Giving up on her doubts of personal freedom she reaches in and turns the hot water on, matching it with cold for a pleasant feel that made her smile vividly. Easing her panties down she steps in under the steam and starts to laugh. “Bless you, Oh Lord. I so needed this.”
Reaching out beyond the curtain the Sister claimed her washcloth, soaping it up with a tiny Hotel sized bar. From there she began washing away the months of stained dirt upon her. Feeling cleaner at best after fifteen minutes she finds shampoo at one of the stalls corners and commenced washing her lengthy brown locks. She was long overdo for a haircut. As a Nun the requirements were short hair. That was before the Genetic conflict. Everything had to evolve including the length. Regardless she did need a trim badly. Everywhere! No razor in sight that would have to wait. She concluded that was a safety measure until a psyche evaluation did not place her suicidal, or worse homicidal.
Cleansed she feels a soft chill trail down her spine as if a finger tempting her. Glaring behind her with shock she found nothing and reconciled the sensation to nerves. Eyes closed she lets the spray of water flood over her facial features. It was joyous! Then, she felt a pinch on her right butt cheek startling her into a scream. Her feet slip on the shower floor as she turns too quickly throwing her off balance. Before she could fall she feels an invisible force hold her up which eased away once she was stable. Before her haunted gaze she witnesses the curtain open as something stepped out. How was that possible? She hadn’t seen it open other than when she first entered. V felt as if she were going crazy. In her stressed curiosity she parts the curtain utilizing it to cover herself as she peers out. No one was there.
“Surely my imagination.” She whimpers, eyes darting in all directions to be certain. It was then she noted the steam upon the bathroom mirror as if a finger etching words. As they begin to appear she knew she was not alone. “Hello my child! I am God.” She gasps in horror at such a statement, “What are you? Why have you violated my person? You cannot possibly be…God! My Lord would never lust.”
The bathroom door opens as she witnesses wet footsteps trail along the carpet of the next room. Valentine snatches up her towel wrapping it around her as she gets out to follow her ghostly pervert. She finds only dampness on her locked bedroom door and footprints that seemingly walk right through the barrier. Moments later she gains the nerve to open the locked door. No trace of him was on the other side. Only the approaching Morgana Knight bearing clothing.
Morgana notes the Nun’s frightened state as she steps up to a distraught Valentine. Peering down at the footprints on the carpet which were hardly the size of the Nun’s she surmises, “I see you met, God. Sort of! I wondered how long it would be before he would try laying hands on you.”
Valentine shifts her gaze directly into Morgana’s, “Who or what is that?”
Morgana shivers with a smile, “Our ghostly paramour! Nobody is quite sure what God is. He could be an APOZ with the powers of a ghost, or an ABBY.”
Valentine offers a puzzled glare, “ABBY?”
“ABBY’s are AB blood types. Rare and Godlike in nature. That or he’s just really a ghost. Either way he’s quite the Casanova. Trust me I should know.” Her wink unsettles Valentine.
“You and this God…thing?”
Morgana nods with a glimmer of heightened emotion almost giddy, “There is nothing like seeing hand prints crushing your chest that aren’t really there. Or, your nipples being pulled by invisible teeth, watching yourself under mirrored ceiling tiles as you’re made love to—“. Valentine reaches up forcing a hand over Morgana’s mouth.
“Please! No more. Tell this particular God to stay away from me.”
Morgana shrugs, “More for me then. Speaking of suit yourself, here’s a change of clothing.” Valentine swiftly snatches the clothing and slams the door behind her. Outside, Morgana strides down the hall raising her right arm, palm extended to hear a high five slap her hand. God was standing nearby. The plot thickened!
Within her room Valentine sat on her bed praying for guidance when she chose to open her eyes, and look over her clothing. Wadded up as it was she had not noticed it was a crop top black t-shirt barely covering her breasts once pulled over. Even worse considering her Vows the shirt emphasized the band Black Sabbath. Her heart sank! The pants were even worse in being cut off daisy dukes with sewn on hand prints over the ass cheeks. Finally long pinstriped tube socks that went up to her knees. She looked like a desiccated clown. In a huff she knew Morgana had done this on purpose.
“You…you…you…! UGGGGGGGGGGH!”
********
Hector journeyed east through the lower tunnels to the Science Building. Keying in his own password he enters into the world of high tech and biology. Needing to check on his pet’s arrival to hand off the corpse of Mother Superior was a priority. He hadn’t got a call saying Ozzie hadn’t arrived but the Department did keep busy. Fearing his normally trustworthy sidekicks might eat the body, this being near their feeding time it was safer double checking. Of course, the Guru’s of bLAB bLAB bLAB as he called them would have had to let the cat in through coded doors, so he presumed the exhumed was in good hands.
Checking in at the front desk where a plump but curvy middle aged woman sat performing secretarial duties, Hector leaned an elbow on her upraised desk space. “You see a big pussy come through here?”
“Hey Hotshot!”
“Mornin’ Jeri! Just makin’ sure Oz didn’t stop at a drive thru for lunch.”
“If you don’t trust your big pussy to deliver…I could help you with that.” Jeraldine Klutch winked, he knew she was rubbing her own beneath the desk, his hearing acute, nose smelling a woman in heat.
“I got enough pussy troubles between keepin’ two tigers in line and a nomadic housecat.”
“Ah! Yeah, I heard Persia was back. She was gone longer this time than I recall.”
“Two months! If not for her tracking chip constantly moving I’d have presumed the worst. Nine lives tripled she always says. I tend to believe her, she’s gotten through some rough scratches…I mean patches. Both I reckon!”
“Yes Ozzie brought in the body safely! Doctor’s Stone and McKenna have the corpse in their secure possession.”
“Good deal! Where’s Ozzie?”
“McKenna fed him table scraps over at the Morgue. He comes in handy when they’re done doing autopsy’s.”
“Saves me taking them out on hunting trips every two days.”
“I bet! They must be a hand full.” She stretches vividly offering a coy look at her massive 42D’s. He looked, he winked.
“Put away your melons Jeri I’m not squeezin’.”
“Dang it!”
“I need to go deal with Persia before she comes lookin’ for me.” He pauses in mid turn, “Reckon ole’ Morgana gets a raincheck unless she wants to share a bed with Persia.”
“Oh, you know that Witch would!”
“Yep! If she weren’t so talented I’d deny her.”
“Persia know you…?”
“Open marriage Jeri! You know that Miss Melon!” He watched her stretch once again, this time her nipples stabbing through her shirt like fingertips…five on each breast. “Waving goodbye?”
“Gotta squeeze my own tits it appears.” The nipples do indeed! “Mmmmm! I love myself!”
“On that note!”
“You did note!”
Shaking his head Hector Hostile walked out! Jeri’s nipples pinched one another in a battle beneath her blouse. Panting she wished they could finger her too. She needed her hands to do her job. Her actual job!
********
Elevator going up Hector shared it with a thin man coming home from work as a janitor. While he knew most everyone at Fort Apache no matter their position he couldn’t quite remember this guy. He seemed nice enough, didn’t reek of danger, mostly sweat and hard earned money in the form of a recently swiped debit card. Being sociable was just in Hector’s character.
“Hard day?”
“Not bad Mister Hostile!” The man shyly admitted. “Get’s rough vacuuming up so much hair in the carpets over in the BPOZ wing.”
“I bet! Try grooming tigers with bones sticking out their backs.”
“You brush them out?”
“Naaaa! They’d eat the hair brush! They groom themselves. Now Persia, my wife? She’s the one I might hire you to brush out.”
“Really?” He brightened up knowing just how beautiful Persia Hostile was. “I can if you need me too.”
“I’m joking…what’s your name again?”
“Neal Downes!” Hector almost laughed. “I know I hair…hear it all the time. Please don’t mock me.”
“All good Neal! I’ll definitely remember your name next time.”
“This is my floor.” The elevator door opened and the man shyly waved goodbye.
“I bet it is.” Hector chuckled in thought. Door closing the elevator headed higher to the penthouse level. Humming to himself he stared at the ceiling until the elevator stopped to open up. Getting a healthy does of Persia’s pheromones’ he sighed, a mighty erection brewing. Eyes lowering to the floor inside he cocked an eye brow. “Neal Downes? Irony!”
At his feet lay the most incredible woman ever to evolve. Her bushy white tail laying off to her left hip whipping about in an alluring manner. Her legs wide and inviting she simply stared up at him with unblinking orbs of golden brown. Gentle clawed fingers prying her cunt wide into the sexiest tunnel ever conceived made him hit the stop button locking out the elevator without even looking at his target.
“Meeeee…Youuuu!” She purred with a flesh calling soft voice.
Without another word Hector Hostile disrobed and left everything but his holstered Magnum and utility belt in the elevator. Taking his equipment with him he rested them on the floor to his side and mounted his mate. Endowed like a horse with a ten inch monster he penetrated her and rammed deep. She squalled then hissed her satisfaction. Before she could even whisper her adoration he fed on her lips and made love to her. Two months away had been far too long.
Nails drawing blood along his back in kneading punctures that sank and retreated repeatedly he had to break their kiss. “I need that blood Persia! Let’s not ruin my carpet and your fur.”
“Miss me Hubby Hostile?”
“You know I have. Too bad you can’t say the same when you’re out prowling. One of these days you’re not gonna come back.”
“Of course I will! You should try going beyond the city…be adventurous! Now stop worrying and feed me I’m…famished!”
“Adventurous, huh?” He moves to his knees and drags her lithe body up with him to at first hold her in his lap while they made out, she gyrating seductively over his cock. Her persistent purr driving his hormones insane instructed him to rise from his knees and hold her aloft in the air. Persia’s tail softly batting his legs sent his adrenalin off on a fantasy of its own. “I’ll show you adventurous!” He mumbled in devouring her lips.
Stepping back into the elevator Hector hit the restart button and released the elevator. Recalling a certain floor he tapped the button and it began descending until met. Doors opening he ignored where his eyes led him, his other senses useful while enjoying her passion. Sniffing led him to walk the hallway until reaching a door he had never once stood in front of before now. A knuckle knock on the apartment was answered mere seconds after heard. In the doorway stood a shirtless Neal Downes.
“Mister…Hostile?” His eyes barely acknowledging the muscular stature of Hector, choosing instead to explore the fur covered snowball that was Persia.
“Neal!” Hector mumbled, unable to break her demonic kiss.
“Yes Sir!”
Dropping down Neal swallowed dryly, her whipping tail teasing his chest and neckline. Finally, she lifted her tail and he saw her incredible white ass. Her anus calling he found her tail covering his head and taunting him in. Witness to Hector’s arm sized cock plunging deep into her cunt, his scrotum like two oranges mounding up between her thighs, Neal simply took a risk and stuck his tongue in her ass. She stiffened up at the twin pleasures and whispered into her lover’s mouth.
“Cad!”
Hector swore she said Cat!
Neal lived up to his name!
It was glorious to be home!