Free Demon Mind Control Story Sample Below
Blake was never an ambitious person. Between serving up coffee and hanging out with his best friend Amanda, he never really needed anything else. But when Amanda shows up to work after a strange absence with an alluring aura, hypnotic eyes, and a voice that no one can disobey, Blake will be drawn into a dark world of lust and desire he never knew existed.
Now, with Amanda infected with a demonic need for sexual energy, she's quickly losing control and in need of his help. But when that help involves helping her feed of the lust of her brainwashed victims, how far will he go for his oldest friend? And when she can see into his darkest desires and is more than willing to make them all reality, how long until he is as eager a participant as she is?
Lust and Lattes is a devilish tale with scenes of mind control, corruption, bondage, and more!
Find it here on Smashwords!
Lust and Lattes
1
"Must have changed the dress code," he said to himself, his eyes drawn to the bare, shapely hips of his co-worker Stacie. He watched her walk, oblivious, into an aisle of shelves, past a strange, darkened corner of the store Blake had never realized was there. It was when he looked into that strange, shadowy corner that he saw a pair of glowing blue eyes, and jerked back in surprise.
The glowing orbs shimmered like sapphires hovered in the darkness, staring at him. Blake saw something writhing at the edges of the shadows. Black tendrils of darkness pushing at the edges of the light.
Can you hear me, Blake? came a familiar voice, one that came from everywhere and nowhere at once. The surprise had shunted him from his dream, returning him to his tiny studio apartment in the early morning hours.
At his shift later that day—fully clothed, fortunately—he could still vividly remember the dream. Remember the eyes. Remember the voice. It was a woman's voice, and one he was sure he knew.
He stood at his counter, pondering this and trying, with limited success, to look like he was working. He arose from his thoughts as Stacie—also fully clothed, unfortunately—leaned towards him as she brought stacked his morning stock of coffee beans on the back counter.
"So, your friend Amanda? She's definitely getting fired," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, her lips curling into a half-smile.
Blake's mouth dropped slightly. "That's a fucking bummer. Why?"
The girl sniffed. "You mean besides her surly attitude and unwillingness to do any work?"
"Yeah," Blake said with a nod.
"Then how about the fact she's been absent from work for an entire week? Serena said today was the final straw."
Blake frowned. "Maybe Serena could, you know, give her another shot?"
"She'd have to show up first. And even then, not a chance," Stacie said with a snort. "She's already planning to hire a new girl starting later this week."
As his coworker walked away, Blake took out his phone and opened the messenger app. He bit his lip as he stared at the list of un-replied to messages sent over the past week. He had considered going to see his best friend in person until he remembered that, since she had broken up with her boyfriend several weeks earlier, he had no idea where she lived.
He sighed and returned his phone to his pocket. "Where the hell are you, Amanda?" he said to himself.
The past few weeks had been weird, even before she had stopped showing up to work. Normally they would take their breaks together on the back loading dock, joking and laughing and giving each other tips on new ways to slack off without getting caught. On days that things got busy, they share their stashes with each other to pass the time more pleasantly.
The ring of bells sounded as the wooden bookstore entrance swung open. Blake barely noted the sound, his mind becoming quickly becoming absorbed in thought. He ran the espresso machine, pouring himself two shots of concentrated caffeine into a tiny cup, then turned back to the bar as he downed it.
Amanda was there, leaning against the bar, grinning at him.
"What's up, Blake?"
Blake jerked back, choking on his espresso. The next few seconds Blake spent coughing up the ill-fated java, staring wild-eyed at his heretofore missing friend.
She was in her usual attire; a thin black t-shirt and ripped jeans. Her lipstick was the same shade of black as her hair, the same shade as the thick-rimmed glasses that rested high on her nose.
"Where have you been?" he said, his voice hoarse.
"Not keeping you in line, apparently." She arched a brow. "Are you OK, Blake?"
Blake gave one last tentative cough. "Will be. Had caffeine go down the wrong pipe." He faced Amanda fully now, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. Was there was something different about her? Her posture seemed straighter. Her blue eyes... brighter, somehow. Even her smile seemed a little different, missing the faint traces of a pout that had been her mouth's default position.
Blake stared at her, trying to figure out why she seemed so different. He was left with the feeling that she had grown more attractive, but he couldn't put his finger on how. Her smooth skin was just as pale, her narrow features just as regal. Her pert breasts were still delightfully straining the tight fabric of her black t-shirt, and her hips hadn't lost their delectable curve.
Pushing the thought away, Blake poured her a cup of coffee, but as he handed it to her, their eyes met, and the strange feeling deepened. It felt like she was seeing through him. Into him. As if she were peering into his very soul.
"So where have you been? I've been, like..." he hesitated. "Kind of worried about you, you know?"
For a moment, Amanda was quiet. Blake was going to say something else, but stopped when he felt something touching him furtively. It was there for just a second; soft, warm, and not unpleasant, and then gone in an instant. He glanced around, trying to see what had touched him, only realizing then he couldn't pinpoint where the feeling had come from.
When he turned back to Amanda, she was looking away, her expression strange. Restrained. Her eyes seemed stranger, too. Almost as if they were glowing.
"It's a long story," she said in a tight voice, running her slender fingers through her permanent tousle of hair. "It's been a weird few weeks."
"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a sip of from his own drink. It was cold; the beans had been sitting for too long.
Strange thoughts ebbed at the corners of Blake's mind. Thoughts of Amanda's naked body. Of her touch along his skin.
He watched as her breath quickened. "I don't know, Blake. It's... it's complicated," she said, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
Her lips were soft. Wet. Blake felt a stirring inside him, deep and thrumming with his heartbeat. Something flashed across Amanda's face for just a moment. It was a look of deep hunger. There, and then gone as she looked away.
The rising arousal and insistent thoughts inside Blake slowed as they broke eye contact. He shook his head. This wasn't right; she was his friend. Wasn't she? He'd had fantasies, of course, but who wouldn't?
She cleared her throat. "Sorry," she said. "I know I seem off. Like I said—long story. Say, have you seen Serena ar—"
"Well, look who decided to show!" came a voice from behind them. Blake looked past Amanda to see the bookstore owner walking over, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. She wore a green skirt and light blouse, both of which complimented her curves.
Amanda shared a last look into Blake's eyes before. In an instant, her expression changed, becoming expressive, bright, and friendly. "Hi, Mrs. Katz. Sorry I've been away; I had some personal business that really hit me by surprise."
Serena Katz glared at the goth girl, her hands on her hips. "No word. No warning. Barely an explanation. What, do you think just because this is an independent business you can disregard your job like that?"
For a second, Blake saw that sardonic, hostile look of Amanda's return. Her lips arched down. Her jaw set. But then she paused, and took a breath, and it all seemed to dissolve, leaving her standing warm and confident once again.
"Amanda, I think it's time you fo—"
Amanda interrupted her boss. "Actually, Ms. Katz, I think maybe we should hold for a second. Let's all just relax."
Blake saw that strange look in Amanda's eyes again, and for a moment, Serena just stood there, staring at her. "What did you say?"
"I said we should relax." Amanda's voice had grown soft. Almost melodic. "Let's all just calm down," she said, smiling. Blake watched as Serena rose a hand to her temples, even as her posture loosened.
"Maybe," Serena said, her long, red hair shifting as she nodded. "Maybe we should."
The two sat at one of the small tables in the coffee shop area, and Blake brought them both fresh coffee. "Now," Amanda continued, her voice still baring that strange tone, "what was it you were going to say?"
When Serena spoke, she sounded less formal. She shivered, then leaned in. "It's... it's just that you left us out on a limb here, Amanda. You know that made things harder for everyone."
"I know. And I'm sorry for that." She glanced around the shop. "But everything here seems OK."
She reached forward, and to Blake's surprise, put her hand atop Serena's. "Tell you what, I'll put in some extra hours over the next few weeks. I'll do it till I make up for the time I missed. How does that sound?"
Serena stared at her hand on hers. "I... Uh... Maybe I overreacted. I guess that's good enough for me."
Amanda smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Great! We can start on things today."
Stacie, who had been watching things from the shelves with increasing surprise, sidled over to Blake. "What the fuck just happened?"
"I, uh, think they worked things out," Blake said, watching as Amanda rose and started walking off. It was all too strange. What was that feeling he had around her? Why was she being so closed off?
Before she disappeared behind the shelves, she glanced back at him. There was a sadness there. A sadness, and something else. Blake moved to go to her, but before he could, she was already gone into the book side of the store.
2
The strange patch of darkness was there, too. Except it had slid further along the wall, closer to him. He could see those eyes. More, Blake could make out the faint outline of a form.
Everyone ignored the strange dark patch, everyone except one. When his boss came, was completely naked; her firm, heavy tits jiggling with each step. She ordered a coffee, but when Blake poured the drink and handed it to her, his eyes went wide to see the darkness coiling around her. Tendrils of black sliding over her body; teasing and groping her breasts, sliding slithering her neck and between her legs.
The woman stood frozen; her face a mask of pleasure as the darkness slithered between her thighs, caressing her wetness. Pushing into her accepting mouth.
Over the woman's shoulder were the eyes. Those blue sapphires staring at him. Blake could make out the impression of horns. A tail.
Can you hear me, Blake?
Just like last time, the echoing words shocked him awake.
Work was no less weird. Amanda seemed almost a different person than the one he knew. She was more relaxed; her posture more confident. She chatted and laughed with customers, as well as Stacie and Serena.
Not Blake as much, though. They would chat, every once in a while, even joke around some, but eventually she would get that strange look in her eye and quickly find an excuse to leave.
"Hey," he said, catching Stacie as she carried a small stack of books back to stock. "Have you, like, noticed anything weird with Amanda?"
He watched the blonde girl blush. "Oh! She, uh, seems different, yeah. Not bad though. She was, actually, uh..."
Stacie trailed off, an odd look in her eyes, like she'd fallen into a trance. Blake's eyes were drawn down when he noticed her nipples hardening under her buttoned blouse. She coughed, then said, "I mean, yeah! Amanda has definitely cheered up some!"
As he closed up for the day, Blake was struck by the strange feeling of someone watching him. But when he turned around, there was no one there. He tried to catch Amanda to talk to her, finding her standing with Stacie. They were talking, but Amanda was strangely close to Stacie, whose eyes looked strangely glazed.
As if she could sense Blake looking, Amanda glanced over at him, flashing him a smile and a wave. Her other hand was running down Stacie's thigh.
That night, his dream was even stranger than before. He was standing in his boss's office. The lights were low, like it was after hours. Serena was sitting in her leather office chair, naked like the previous night.
And just like the previous night, she was being molested by strange tendrils of darkness. Thick, inky bands had her bound to the chair, while others groped her tits. Two had curled out and were sucking on her nipples with their tendril-tips, teasingly pulling on one, then the other.
The woman's face was flushed; her eyes were closed in bliss. Blake could see his boss's mouth was open, a thick band of darkness pumping slowly in and out of it in a steady rhythm. Soft, steady moans rose from the woman's throat.
Blake tried to move, but it felt like his feet were glued to the ground. Slowly he made out a form in the darkness, standing behind the chair, slender fingers gripping the top. Blue eyes. Horns. A softly swishing tail leaving trails in the inky blackness.
Does it bother you, Blake?
The voice was familiar. Hearing it broke whatever spell had locked his feet, and he quickly left Serena’s office. In the main area of the store, things were still far from normal. Customers perused the shelves—naked, of course—but several were making out in groups of two or three, their lips locked on one another, their hands steadily exploring their bodies. Others sounded amid the shelves, obviously doing much more than kissing.
Blake half walked, half stumbled back to the coffee bar, and pulled up short when he found Stacie. She was on the old couch set against the wall, the black tendrils wrapped around her ankles, thighs, and waist, pulling her far on her back. Her shapely thighs pulled wide, her ass drawn into the air, exposing both her pussy and ass. The tendrils were wriggling in and out of her holes with an alternating rhythm; another with its tip kissing and sucking on her clit with steady, sliding motions.
Stacie's face twisted in a grimace of pleasure, her eyes shut tight. She was making soft mewling sounds as the tendrils pleasured her. One of them—the one that had been teasing her clit—had slid up to push into her mouth, while another was teasing her asshole.
Blake stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before him.
"This is, like, fucking gnarly," Blake said to himself. It was strange and unreal, but a part of him didn't want to stop it; wanted to see Stacie get off. "This is so fucking wrong."
I've tried to be good, that nowhere voice said I really have.
Blake could see the form there, sitting next to Stacie on the couch, directing the tendrils as they pleasured her. He could see the figure's arms—long, thin, and feminine—gripping the couch like she was holding on for dear life.
"Wh-what's going on?"
Those blue eyes turned to him. He could barely make out a face. Could see the features, but just barely. He didn't want to believe what he saw.
I didn't expect the need to be this strong. Amanda said, her face forlorn as she looked at him. I didn't expect to get so hungry.
3
Sitting on a bench at the park, he messaged Amanda on his phone, texting simply, Is something weird happening to you?
He received no reply.
Dread filled him as night drew closer. He couldn't shake the feeling; that something was going to happen. That something was coming. It was like he could feel eyes on him wherever he went. It wasn't a malevolent feeling, but something filled with yearning. With hunger. With a growing tiredness.
Or maybe he was just going crazy.
Before he went to bed, Blake smoked an exceedingly large bowl of weed. It was the one surefire way he knew to knock out his dreams. And, sure enough, he slept restfully and, more importantly, dreamlessly.
And the only side effect was a morning case of the munchies.
When he got to work, he had almost forgotten about the strangeness he had seen and heard the past few days. He happily whiled away the hours, serving up coffee, lattes and scones to the early morning regulars.
But then, as he was taking a sip of his coffee, he saw across the store two regulars, sisters, fresh into college. One had the other pressed with her back to the wall, the other—her face a mask of lust—was pushing her tongue deep into her sister's mouth.
And whenever Blake blinked, he could swear he saw shadow like lines running along their afterimage.
"Well," he said to himself, eyes wide. "That's probably not good."
"And what would that be?"
Blake looked to see his boss standing at the counter. The top buttons of her blouse were undone; revealing the luscious curves of her mounds. Her full, wet lips were parted slightly, her dark skin supple and inviting.
"Uh," Blake laughed nervously. "Just, you know... have you noticed the vibe been different here lately?"
Her voice was soft and smoky. "You know what I've noticed, Blake? I've noticed how distracted you get."
Serena leaned forward slightly, and Blake could fully see her hypnotically plump tits. They were so round; so firm; so deliciously perky. He could smell her scent—a mix of sweet perfume and arousal. "What's going on in your head, Blake?" she asked in a sultry tone.
Blake swallowed hard. "I mean, you know..."
"You know what I've been thinking?" she said, letting her voice drop lower, her eyes drifting to his crotch. "I've been thinking about bringing you to my office. Take some time to show you how to... dedicate yourself to your duties here at the Ivory Pages..."
"That..." Blake blinked, feeling like a deer caught in his boss's headlights. "Actually, you know, I really need to use the bathroom. If you'll excuse me..."
Her lips curled into a smile as she eyed the bulge in his pants. "It does look like you need to take care of something." Her eyes almost seemed to gleam. In the recesses of his mind, he pictured dark tendrils running up and down her body. "I want you in my office when you're done, though, Blake. Don't disappoint me."
Blake bolted for the back; his cock twitching in his pants as he thought of what might await him in her office.
He hurried to the bathroom, trying to think of a way to stall—a way to avoid whatever she had planned. But even as he did, another part of him, a dark voice in the back of his head, wondered why he should. Why not let her deal with the steadily growing ache in his pants?
The thought sent a shiver up Blake's spine. It was like there was an aura about this place, seeping into him; into his body, his mind, his soul. He felt a desire to let go of everything he knew. To give into the temptation. To become lost in the depths of the shadow world, to let the warm, caressing tendrils pull him off into bliss.
Blake shook off the thought. He took a piss, washed his hands, and headed out the back to get some fresh air. He walked down the tiled hall, heading towards the back exit. On his right was the little lounge where the shop employees ate and stored their lunches.
As Blake neared, he heard someone inside it. At first, he thought it was the sound of someone crying. He paused, taking a nervous peek inside. Stacie leaned against the wall, her shorts slid down to her knees, her hands between her thighs.
She was not crying. She was moaning; her eyes closed as she writhed against the wall. Blake could hear the soft, wet sounds of her sex. Could see her lust dripping down to the tiles below her.
"So good," she whimpered. "Sooo gooood..."
Blake stared—unable to move. His cock twitched and throbbed, feeling like it was about to burst. He wanted to rush in and help her, but something held him back. When he blinked, he could, for just a split second, see those phantom tendrils, those writing snakes of lust. They slithered all about her; wrapping around her legs; coiling around her arms.
I didn't expect to get so hungry.
He kept on walking, trying to ignore her moans, ignore the feelings it stirred in him. He headed towards the back door. Pushed it open, and stepped out into the small loading dock, taking in the cool, crisp afternoon air. He put his hand against the wall to steady himself, breathing steadily.
What the fuck was happening? And how was Amanda involved in it? Why was it bleeding into his dreams?
"This is crazy," he said to himself. "Like, batshit crazy. I have to find Amanda. Gotta figure out what's going on."
"Has anyone ever told you that you are exceptionally unobservant?"
Blake almost jumped out of his skin, did jump up and fall off the loading dock to the asphalt six feet below and stumble to the ground.
"Ow," he said, looking up to see Amanda's face staring down at him.
After crawling to his feet and climbing back up to the dock, he stared at his old friend. She looked the same as ever, and somehow more different than even before. Her hair—that tousled raven pixie cut; pale skin—so smooth, so supple; her eyes—so big, so beautiful. Her lips—so kissable, so inviting.
Blake paused, shaking his head. It was hard to look at her, like everything sank farther into his brain than it was supposed to.
"It's weird. Isn't it?"
He snorted, his head down to avoid looking at her. "I mean, yeah..."
"I know it doesn't make sense, Blake, but you should probably go back inside. It's... not good to be close to me right now."
"I think I'm getting that," Blake said, trying not to think about how lovely her voice was. How she smelled like coffee; like smoke; like sex. "But I have no idea why. And, like, I also have no idea why you've been avoiding me."
He heard the calm demeanor in her voice crack slightly. "Because... You were the only person who's ever been nice to me."
He flicked his eyes up at her for just a second. "You didn't seem to mind everyone else."
"Everyone else is everyone else," she said with simple frankness. "You're my only friend, Blake. I don't want to... do... that.. to you." She let out a frustrated groan. "This is really hard to talk about."
Blake chanced a look up at her, and for a moment, he saw Amanda as he remembered her. Still cute and beautiful and sexy, but also her friend. He could also see that she was visibly straining against something.
"Amanda," he said softly. "Tell me what's going on."
"I promise," she said, taking a long breath. "I'm working on a solution. Maybe have one. But I don't want to fuck it up before..."
She made a soft gasping noise, and for a second it all came rushing back. Blake's mind—his body—was being overrun by tendrils; tendrils of lust; tendrils of temptation. The tendrils wrapped themselves around his mind like a web; pulling him into the shadows. Pulling him away from reality.
Thoughts flooded his mind. Thoughts of Amanda naked before him, her hands running over his body. Of kneeling before her. Worshiping her with his tongue and his fingers and his cock.
He gasped, feeling his throbbing manhood crying for relief. He looked down to see that he was hard as a rock. In the back of his mind, he could feel the tendrils sliding along his shaft, making his cock pulse in his pants.
And then it was gone again, leaving Blake shaking and confused. He looked up; seeing Amanda—her lips parted, her eyes wide with surprise.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm really trying to control it. Please, Blake. Please go inside. I promise I'll explain when I can."
"Yeah," he said, feeling like a total jerk. "Sorry."
He turned and walked towards the door, feeling her eyes on him.
"Blake," she breathed. "Thank you."
He stopped and turned; meeting her gaze. "For what?"
She gave him a shy smile. "For being my friend."
Blake paused, then nodded. "For sure."
Then he walked through the door, back into the shop.
As he walked back down the hall towards the front of the shop, he felt a hand grip his shoulders as he walked, pulling him into the employee's lounge. Serena pushed him against the wall, a dark smile on her face. "You were taking too long," she whispered. "I told you I wanted you in my office." Then she kissed him—a slow, sensual kiss; one that made Blake's cock harden once again.
When she pulled away, he was panting like a dog.
"But I suppose here will work as well as anywhere," she breathed, and gave a low, throaty laugh. "And anyway, it seems like you're not the only one in need of instruction."
Staring wide eyed, Blake only then noticed to her left behind Selena was Stacie, still against the wall, watching them from eyes glassy with lust. Her slick fingers still pleasuring her glistening slit.
"Selena," Blake said between sharp breaths, "Like, something's wrong here. No one is acting right. Can't you see that?"
Selena gave a low, throaty laugh, her dark hands running up Blake's neck. "Oh, I think everyone is acting just fine." She leaned in close; kissing him again. This time harder, longer. She leaned her body against his, her heavy breasts pressing on his chest, her hips grinding against him.
Her tongue linger on his lips as she drew back. "You just need to learn to let go, Blake."
Blake shivered. When he blinked, he could see the tendrils—Amanda's tendrils—flowing over her, driving her onward. Warping her mind. Filling her with desire; with the need to fuck. Blake felt like he was going to explode. He could feel the heat coming off of Selena, smell the scent of her lust.
"I think that's enough, boss. Don't you?" came Amanda's voice from the lounge entrance. Everyone turned to see Amanda leaning against the door frame. Blake closed his eyes, and could see the shadow impression of horns and a tail on her slender form.
Selena stared at her employee, her breath coming low and hard. "But... I need... to show him... To make him... understand."
The tension in the air was thick. Blake could feel the hunger radiating off of Amanda, a gaping maw; a yearning mouth of lust. It existed only in the flickering dark of his eyelids, beneath the cool, collected gaze she presented.
But even then, Blake saw it in her eyes.
"No," Amanda said, calmly. "Truth is, Blake probably needs to take the day off. He needs his rest if he's going to learn anything."
Blake watched the phantom tendrils pull at his boss, constraining her thoughts. "I... but..." She let out a soft sigh. "Yes, yes... you're right. He needs to rest."
Blake opened his eyes; seeing Selena nodding her head in agreement. "You're right, Amanda. I'm sorry, Blake."
She drew back from him, her smoldering eyes still devouring him, but obeying Amanda's direction all the same. Blake took a deep breath—his heart still pounding like a jackhammer—and let it out. "Yeah.... Thanks, Selena. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."
He slid along the wall, pausing at the door to glance sidelong at Amanda. Her lips bore the shadow of a smile, but her eyes focused solely on Serena.
"What are you doing to them?" he said to her in a whisper.
He watched Amanda shudder, the slightest crack showing in her relaxed, confident visage. Her eyes glowed blue, blue like a roiling flame. The words flared bright in his mind. This is me trying not to do anything. Don't you get that?
The response hit Blake like a blow, sending him reeling and filling his vision with stars. When they cleared, he saw her clutching the door frame. I'm sorry. It's just... getting very hard. I'm not hurting them, but I can't stop this from happening to them. It's all I can manage to keep from doing it to you.
Blake steadied himself. His gaze locked on Serena as she turned her attention to Stacie, still pleasuring herself against the wall.
It's like a switch— he heard her say; a quiet, soft voice in his head. —it's like a switch inside of me, and I can't turn it off. Please. Just go. I'll talk to you when I can. Explain when I can. I promise.
Blake nodded. He watched as his boss moved towards Stacie, reaching out to caress her cheek. The girl breathed sharp as she turned her face to meet Serena's touch. He'd never imagined in a million years he'd see the two of them like that; their bodies coming together, their hands roaming up and down each other.
Serena's fingers—long, elegant fingers—began unbuttoning Stacie's blouse, revealing the swell of her breasts. She pulled the fabric away, letting it fall to the floor. Blake watched as his boss's dark fingers traced across the girl's creamy skin, tracing her collarbone and neckline down to her exposed mounds.
Stacie's moan broke Blake from his trance, and with a last look at Amanda, still as a statue and seeming to barely breath, he half walked, half stumbled down the hallway. He could feel Amanda, feel her tendrils touching him, caressing him. Teasing his mind with dirty thoughts. Promising him dark delights if he would turn around and return to the lounge and the eager bodies within.
But he could also feel Amanda struggle to restrain the forces coming from her, struggling to keep the worst of it off him. He didn't want to think what would happen if she didn't. What a state his mind would be in.
He walked home to his tiny studio apartment, feeling the echo of Amanda's restrained power resonating through him. He slammed the door as he walked in, then he fell onto his bed; his cock aching like he'd never known it could ache. He couldn't help but imagine Amanda—her naked body, her cute, pert breasts, her long legs, her burning eyes—laying with him, her mouth hot on his shaft. Her fingers stroking him with each movement. Needy. Desperate. Hungry.
He lay there for hours; staring at the ceiling and trying to throw off the thoughts infecting his mind. It was only as the minutes ticked past midnight that his eyes grew heavy. Worried, confused, and still disconcertingly aroused, Blake fell into sleep.
***
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