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On 11.05.2020
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Porn eines sakura ein bei. Mal fr einen Taxifahrer gesungen?

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BADTIME STORIES - Tied brunette in fishnet t&period Die Nackte Frauen, also keinen grokommerziellen Dicke Milf Fickt haben, sondern haben sie auch? Ist. Ein herzhaftes Essen mit Ihrer Gruppe von Freunden zu teilen ist definitiv viel besser als alleine zu sein. Wie fallen Erfahrungen von anderen Nutzern bei Fundorado aus. BADTIME STORIES - Hot slave t. by crazy doc BadTime Stories 10min - p - 23, Perverted doctor Pornfighter Long John takes advantage of Stella Star, teasing and pleasing with his collection of torture toys, in this intense episode told by Smorlow. We are updating and adding of porn videos every day. It's all % free porn. Send us feedback if you have any questions to XNXX seX XXnx dot com. XNXX SEX XNXX has sex scene. I mean, I just can't, period! No matter how hot woman-on-kid sex is!' Claire felt her heart beat harder and faster, her breath coming faster and shorter. She felt her pulse as it pounded to the beat of her heart through her extremities, felt her clit throb in sync with her beating heart, felt her nostrils flare as her body demanded more oxygen.

It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. As she spoke the zombies charged in a shambling gait.

Sherry held tightly to Claire's waist as the woman demonstrated said hair trigger at point-blank range, the single blast causing each zombie to explode as one in a crimson mess of blood, chunky thick gore and bone.

Shop smart. Shop S-Mart. You got that? Claire surveyed the carnage she'd just inflicted with a self-satisfied and slightly maniacal grin.

She hoisted her shotgun against her right shoulder, grasped Sherry tightly to her side with her left, and crowed, "Hail to the Queen, Baby. Silence reigned for several moments.

Her voice squeaking and quaking, Sherry barely managed to ask, " Claire stowed the gun away and wrapped her hand around Sherry's. As they walked towards the store she'd pointed out earlier she answered, "The fulfillment of a personal fantasy, Sherry.

We'll watch the movies when we get out of here Claire mentally sighed as they reached the sidewalk. I think we'll be safe in here. Nothing's been disturbed or anything.

While she dropped and locked the shades to the other street-facing windows, to both blot out some of the bright light outside as well as hide their presence, she suddenly thought, ' Why did that door have so many locks?

And why are there security bars and locking metal window shades over the windows? And was that door made out of steel?

None of the other stores we've been in had this kind of set-up. Sherry, meanwhile, gazed around the store in awe, absorbing in rapture all of the neat-o clothes.

One small foot stepped forward, and she wandered off into the Petites section. There's stuff back here that'll fit me! Yours are getting too dirty to wear for much longer.

Why don't you find some things you like and take them into one of the dressing rooms to try on. Sherry dashed all around the petites section in a veritable blur.

Her arms loaded down with more clothes than she could honestly carry, she raced unsteadily into the nearest dressing room, well too fast for Claire to tell just what the hell she had gotten for herself beyond the few pairs of jeans and shirts she'd dropped along the way.

It's too bad she has to replace her little school uniform though. I hate to admit it, but If we hadn't come across this store I would have had to duck behind a dumpster or something to scratch that itch she was giving me.

Good God her ass in those shorts are so cute Fuck me sideways Sure, Jill's hot as all fuck, and Rebecca's cute in that photo I found, but I've only fucked little boys before when it comes to kids.

Maybe I should get a custom plate frame for my bike saying "Hey kid Claire shook her mind clear of such impure thoughts and begun to wander among the aisles and casually searched or flipped though the different articles of clothes on the racks.

She was surprised when she noticed a familiar black skinsuit and blue cut-offs nearly exactly like the ones she currently wore. I've cummed and dribbled so much in these old things that they're starting to get really fishy.

The last thing I need is for Sherry to start asking why my pussy smells,' Claire thought with a slight smirk. She pulled the skinsuit off the rack and found the tag.

ALL RIGHT! This is made of that new NASA material that's been all over the news lately, and it's even more stretchy than my old skinsuit is!

It'd take me years to be able to afford this! And they got multiple sets! Just what are NASA-designed skinsuits doing in a weird boutique in a town like this anyway?

Claire closed the door to the abysmally little changing room and turned around to find a hook, but stopped short as she discovered two things. First, the entire surface of each wall and door were covered in mirrors, giving the occupant a full three-sixty view of their body.

The only hooks in the room actually hung from the ceiling from a high-tensile wire. Unbeknownst to Claire, the moment she'd clicked the changing room door closed, an electrical impulse was sent by a wire hidden within the latch and through the wall, where it joined-up with several other wires, and down into the floor.

From there that electrical impulse traveled through several feet of concrete foundation and, following the wire, curved off into an opening in a cement tube.

It followed along the roof of the cement tube until it opened-up into a long corridor made of cement blocks; the sewers.

From there the impulse followed a seemingly random path through the labyrinthine underground structure, passed an unaware Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong who appeared to be arguing over a map, took several more turns and past several giant mutant frog-thingies and disturbingly large spiders, into a nondescript electrical junction box, and disappeared into the wall.

The electrical impulse traveled within the cement wall for nearly a mile, twisting and turning several times following paths humans could never follow without explosives until it passed through another junction box.

When it exited, the electrical impulse traveled within a PVC tube hung on the ceiling of a slate-gray metal hallway, weaved its way though several halls and down several shafts, until it came to a large monitoring terminal, where it stopped at a single clear plastic button covering an LED, which begun to glow with a bright red light, joining a second red light already softly glowing beside it.

A delicate pale finger with long pink manicured nails daintily depressed a button set directly below the lit lights, which activated a group of four large monitors set upright above the computerized monitoring console.

The monitors, an extremely high definition type their egghead designers called "four-kay" that wouldn't be commercially available for another twenty years at best, displayed four different angles of one Claire Redfield as the college girl biker scanned the small reflective changing room distrustfully.

The four-plex of monitors beside it displayed one Sherry Birkin as she sat nude in her changing room, her sweaty chest heaving and her legs splayed wide.

Her small hand played with her wet puffy pussy while the girl bit her bottom lip, obviously trying not to cry out. The finger tapped just to the side of an inset keyboard, before it was joined by three more fingers and they quickly typed.

The pale fingers paused for but a moment before the smallest finger tapped the Enter key. Suddenly the rest of the monitors came to life, displaying each and every angle of the boutique Now I can relax for the first time since getting here,' Claire's thoughts finished, satisfied in her own security if not privacy.

The second thing she discovered was Jill's rather hideous clothing neatly folded on the cushioned changing room bench.

Panicked, Claire grabbed the clothing and searched for anything that might hold a clue as to why Jill would leave her clothes behind. From between some folds she found a short note reading:.

I doubt you'll find my old clothes here, but just in case I'll leave this note for you. This was the only place I could leave my clothes without the zombies getting a whiff of my scent Don't worry about me, love, I'm fine.

I got away from that creature, Nemesis, without "too" many problems I'll tell you all about that later, as well as why I think the thing is after me.

I'm still trying to find as much information on Umbrella as I can, but it's not looking good. I found Lenae again, and it seems her mother's been changed as well, so I'll be taking care of her.

I know you'll love her just as much as I do. Listen, don't worry about me. I'm a member of S. I hope that you find Chris as well, or find some clue as to where he's gotten to.

And I pray that you find this letter Claire, and that we'll meet again once we are both out of this shit-hole. There's a truck stop on the highway about twenty miles up the interstate from Raccoon, just a little ways past Stoneville.

I'll meet up with you there on the first of next month, or leave a way for you to contact me otherwise.

Heh, Chris' paranoia just might be starting to rub-off on me With proof in hand that Jill was recently alive and well, Claire felt a wave of relief wash over her.

Upon reading the valediction line, she felt her heart literally skip a beat and a warmth flush over her.

Claire smirked impishly at the post script, then dug through the small pile of clothes. She pulled out the still-damp pink-heart spotted panties that were at least a size too small for Jill and brought its crotch to her nose.

She inhaled deeply and her memories of the enchanting vixen rushed at her all at once. With a contentedly perverted smile, Claire stuffed Jill's panties into an as-of-yet unused side pocket of her gym bag and zipped the small pocket up tight.

She then refolded the note and tucked it carefully into one of her vest pockets, which was still in her bag.

Claire frowned and looked under her vest at the strap-on that she accidentally grabbed when she ran from the station, and pulled it out.

She brought it to eye level and studied it carefully. It certainly wasn't the same one Jill used on her, that one had been a behemoth while this one was comfortably large — long enough to fill her up without being so long as to try to bruise her cervix, and just the right girth.

It was shaped much like the real thing with the right curvature and a properly-shaped head. The shaft even had fake veins. Claire only wished real cocks looked like this one, because the soft surface of the head was covered with a forest of tiny, quarter-inch long nubs that were just the right balance between being stiff and soft.

Her body shivered as she imagined what it would feel like to have that head inside her cunt. The shaft itself was firm with little give, just like the real thing The veins were joined in regular intervals and in an obvious pattern by dozens — if not hundreds — of nubs in various sizes.

And even though it was designed to be part of a strap-on set, it was actually removable from its harness, which she did so.

Claire examined the underside of the base and discovered three switches. One controlled vibration intensity, one controlled spin speed Claire blinked and then realized that each of the ribs were designed to spin in different directions from one another Claire hefted it for a moment, then twisted the base and popped it off.

Inside were several shiny new-looking batteries. She screwed it back together, and reattached the cock to it's harness.

The egg-shaped female vibrator attached to the inside of the harness by a plastic-coated wire was rather plain in comparison.

And if that's the case, then what kind of pervert is Chief Irons? In his office, Raccoon City Police Chief Brian Irons suddenly sneezed. He rubbed his nose for a moment before he returned to raping the twenty-two-year-old daughter of Raccoon City's mayor and his best friend's daughter, Amy Warren Or at least he would have continued if his sneeze hadn't distracted him just long enough for the young woman to grab a letter opener and, fueled by hate, rage, and desperation, sat up and drove its sharp point into his meaty neck He fell back dead just as he ejaculated all over himself, which was followed by copious amounts of piss and shit as his bowels relaxed.

It would still be awhile before the young woman would recover enough to search the room for a way out, since the wall beyond the office door was blocked by debris from a recently crashed helicopter.

Claire shook her head and quickly shrugged out of her boots and clothing, sat on the bench next to Jill's clothes, and slid her hand along her tight tummy and down to her clit.

Claire hesitated for only a moment before she leaned back, spread her knees, and wiggled the dick into herself. Back at the underground monitoring station, pale fingers drummed against the top of the metallic console beside the keyboard.

The drumming stopped as Claire's displayed image took a turn on the erotic side. The index finger tapped twice, then quickly struck a single key on the keyboard.

Instantly each of the fifty-two large monitors switched output to show the quad angle of Claire's dressing room.

The hand disappeared and was met by silence, broken seconds later by the sounds of a metallic squeak of an office chair and of shuffling cloth Several heartbeats later the silence was broken yet again by a repeating wet slucking sound and a low throaty "Mmmmmmm Claire moaned quietly as she enthusiastically slammed and twisted her dildo in and out of her begging pussy.

Pure rapture fogged and entrapped her mind as she rubbed her throbbing love-nub and pumped herself, her nimble fingers quickly soaked with her juices.

She spread her knees as far as the small room would allow and banged them against the mirrors on both sides, making them rattle within their frames. Claire rubbed her clit harder, fantasizing about Jill and the thrill and pain the older woman's toy brought when she was fucked by it.

Claire suddenly envisioned Sherry in her mind's eye Claire's lips let slip a deep, low moan of wanton desire.

Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Sherry heard me, damn it all! I guess I'll have to wait until next time. Just bumped my head, silly me. Claire answered with a light grunt, trying completely unsuccessfully to sound cheerful.

She yanked the dildo out of herself more violently than was strictly necessary, quickly sucked it clean, and squeezed her taut body into her new skinsuit.

Claire observed herself from every angle at once in the dressing room mirrors as she posed and stretched in various positions, before she giggled and thought, 'Hee hee NOTHING is left to the imagination in THESE.

I've got the worst case of camel toe I've ever seen! With a smile of satisfaction, Claire slipped her new blue denim cut-offs up her legs, nodded in approval at how it had a far lower waist — just barely above her pubic mound — and how its legs were cut so high that most of her ass was hanging out, and how its crotch wasn't even an inch wide.

They were more panties than some of the actual pairs of panties she had in her laundry back at her dorm room! She slipped her belt-pouch around three of her shorts hip-side belt loops to let the pouch hang comfortably off her opposite hip, pulled on her tan boots, and walked out of the tiny room and back into the boutique proper leaving her vest in her bag.

She found Sherry standing somewhat nervously outside her room. Her fidgeting was understandable, as all she wore was a tight red lace-mesh halter teddy, cut with an exceedingly high leg and plunging neck all the way to the very top of her sparse, feather-fine youthful pubic hairs.

The teddy was designed to be held together by several thin ribbons — one around the collar, one under her breasts, and one final at the waist — but the only one actually tied was the one just under Sherry's budding breast mounds.

The damp glistening on her inner thighs did not go unnoticed. What in the World are you Wearing!! Back in Voyeur Control, the pale hand followed its owner as they too fell backwards out of their own chair as it's owner's face made contact with the linoleum floor, the fingers of said hand articulating into an evil-be-gone gesture.

Puzzled, Claire asked as she stood back up, "Well of course I like what you're wearing, Sherry, it's hot as fuck. But what are you talking about The guards at mommy and daddy's lab used to look at them all the time.

Especially the times where it was both me and Tiffany, each of us getting getting our holes and mouths stuffed and Claire quickly snapped herself back to reality.

Sherry now, reminiscing later. Claire cleared her throat of its sudden dryness. And for once it wasn't her own. Claire smiled gently down at the tween as she walked up to her and picked her up.

Carrying a giggling Sherry and trying very hard to ignore the wetness spreading on her forearm from the younger girl's pussy, Claire sat herself down onto a nearby well-padded waiting chair and plopped Sherry onto her lap facing her.

Despite herself, she couldn't help but admire Sherry's nubile young body and her taste in negligees. Claire closed her eyes and thought, ' I never thought I'd have to give someone The Talk until I had my own kids and I could read a book on it.

Lord knows with my sex life that I'm exactly the opposite person who should explain any of this to a twelve year old. Even mom didn't bother telling me , she just gave me a months worth of birth control pills and kept me up to date with them until I turned eighteen last year and could get my own without issues from idiot fund amentalists.

Well Claire, how are we gonna do this? Claire humorlessly shook her head, opened her eyes, and started to explain as best as she could. Back again in Voyeur Control, the delicate fingers paused in tapping its index nail on the console, seemingly not believing they were watching someone so You see, one day you'll meet a person who you will feel happy with.

When you're with that person, you'll feel like you're walking on air, you'll think of nothing but that person, and you'll be very happy. It's called many things, but I like 'making love' the best.

I remember seeing that statue in the park we saw! It looks like a little banana with a mushroom on top and a wrinkled hairy sack underneath!

Claire giggled at her description, completely missing that the balls on that statue did not have hair nor even moss on them, and continued.

You know, the hole in between your legs. But not the one you pee from. That would hurt," she quickly added. He'll rub his cock in and out of your hole until white gooey stuff comes out from a little hole at its tip.

It's the greatest feeling in the world!! And then eventually you'll have a baby from that! But, do I have to have a guy stick his schlong inside me to feel that way?

It sounds like it might be fun if it feels that good The colloquial slang she could understand due to her hanging around guards, but then again She could always talk to her more about that later.

It's truly wonderful. And two women can make love to each other too, kinda like touching each other how they would touch themselves, or by using certain types of adult toys.

Or vegetables Pop Rocks in the pussy is NOT pleasant. It doesn't matter who you make love with, just as long as you and your partner care for each other in the right way first.

Of course there are also people who reserve the act of 'making love', which is just as much psychological as it is physical, to the one they love the most.

But then they also have sex, which they see as a purely physical act, as a form of recreation and fun with other people. Claire actually laughed out loud at that question.

I just used 'making love' as an example to differentiate between having sex with someone you love and having sex with just anybody. People who love each other will also 'just have sex', which is quite honestly the greatest thing ever.

Not only do we have to worry about things like deadly diseases that are spread by having sex, but women run the risk of getting pregnant every time we have sex with a man.

Usually, when women have playful sex and they don't want babies because of it, they take special medication that keeps them from getting pregnant, or have the man slip a condom on his cock, though I prefer bareback.

But because of the risk of disease, you should ONLY have sex with people you know and trust. Claire begun to worry as she watched Sherry looking at the floor and her face starting to turn red.

Aren't you feeling well? Sherry begun to fidget on Claire's lap and she remained silent for several long seconds. She suddenly stopped fidgeting, and turned her face away from the floor to stare Claire directly into her eyes.

Make me feel like I'm going to explode in pleasure? Make me feel like that one special person? In Voyeur Control, the tapping digit flopped bonelessly onto the keyboard, almost as though in shock.

The screens suddenly switched cameras, and each monitor displayed the same live feed of rookie officer Leon Kennedy, now in Chief Irons' office, lying naked on his former-future boss' desk.

On either side of him were Ada Wong and Amy Warren, both standing on opposite sides of him and completely nude while they gave his cock a double tit-job, both women giving the young stud expressions of absolute adoration and shameless lust.

The long pale fingers paused for a moment as the scene played out, both women moaning his name erotically as his cum shot several feet into the air to splatter on their large jugs and faces in a half-dozen long, thick splurts.

It took several more moments for the fingers to return to the keyboard, and more yet to finally return to the boutique feed.

The owner of those fingers hadn't seen such a magnificent male orgasm since they were a teenager, after all.

And the rookie cop DID have a nice looking dick. Clare stared open-mouthed at the young near-teen on her lap, unable to speak for several seconds.

Once her mental circuit breaker reset itself, she asked, "W-w-w-wwhy would you ask me that? Sherry lips curled into a mysterious smile.

You talk about me a lot, too. Claire's throat suddenly begun to feel very dry and constricted, and her hands had quickly become cold and clammy.

In Voyeur Control, nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard keys rapidly until only four monitors displayed the scene in the boutique.

The other monitors instead displayed recordings taken of Sherry and Claire taken throughout their time together throughout the fully wired and camera-friendly city, scanning for such an event.

When the brunette biker co-ed didn't react she continued, "Teach me the pleasure points of both men and women. Pull and pinch my little pink 'titties'.

Shove your middle-finger up my tiny asshole and finger fuck me Claire barely even heard Sherry speak, all she heard were her own thoughts as they echoed within her head.

Have I really talked about doing things to her in my sleep? I - I know I have looked at her in ways I shouldn't have, thinking about all I could do with, no TO her, even enjoying it when she moved herself in my arms so I would bash my hands into her soft sex Claire's body begun to tremble and heat as she felt sweat bead on her forehead and within her clothes.

Clothes which were getting tighter and tighter with every new drop of sweat. My God, what have I been thinking? She's a CHILD!

I can't do anything with a child now that I'm over the age of legal consent! I mean, I just can't, period! No matter how hot woman-on- kid sex is!

Claire felt her heart beat harder and faster, her breath coming faster and shorter. She felt her pulse as it pounded to the beat of her heart through her extremities, felt her clit throb in sync with her beating heart, felt her nostrils flare as her body demanded more oxygen.

Clare felt a quick shock-like flame shoot through her body and her pussy suddenly flood with moisture. Claire's eyes widened with a start.

I just had a mini-orgasm Am I a pedophile? Wait, of course I am, dumb question. I mean, I've fucked dozens upon dozens of little boys before, so yeah: pedophile.

Claire finally noticed that Sherry had stopped talking, and she snapped herself from her inner monologue to find Sherry's face directly in front of her own.

With a surprised yelp Claire fell backward out of her chair and took both it and Sherry with her, landing on her back with Sherry straddled on her stomach.

Claire stared at her young ward in surprise and confusion while Sherry stared back with a curious expression on her face.

Claire suddenly felt a very pleasant sensation, and glanced downward to see Sherry's hands squishing her breasts and rubbing her VERY prominent nipples through her tight skinsuit.

Claire simply gawked and watched Sherry feel her up. Within her mindscape, Claire's Instinct waged war against her eternal rival, Reason.

Instinct, who appeared as a pink-haired Claire clad in the proud uniform of a sex slave circa Princess Leia, swung her chipped broadsword at Reason's stomach.

Only to watch in dismay as her heavily armored if one considered a breast plate bra, gauntlets, and greaves Instinct dodged left as she twisted the blade right, dodging Reason's thrumming beam sabre by the barest of millimeters.

They both cartwheeled in opposite directions and came to their feet several yards from one another. This had been a battle the two had waged ever since their "Claire Prime" had noticed that Sherry possessed a very fine ass.

Instinct declared her intention to tap that ass. Reason, for some reason, had a problem with that notion. After numerous battles, Reason was nearly unscathed while Instinct was covered in multitudes of bleeding cuts, burns, and bruises, and had several broken bones and likely a concussion.

In other words, Claire had suppressed her Instinct like the Fist of God throwing multitudes of blows from Thor's fabled hammer, Mjolnir.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning ripped the sky asunder and flashed before the barely dressed Instinct. When both mind-Claire's visions returned, they saw Instinct holding a star-topped, phallic-shaped "Magical Girl Transformation Rod" in her hand.

Before Reason could attempt to intervene, Instinct raised the star-topped dong above her head and cried,.

Several of his own wolves worked at the circus, and no one would say the rats did not know their business. Where wolves fought battles, the rats specialized in wars.

If anyone could defend a fortress it would be them, and if the Circus of the Damned was anything it was a stronghold of the preternatural.

But it was the preternatural themselves that worried the Wolf King. Rafael inclined his head but didn't appear to be happy with what he was going to say next.

From the way they spoke As if it was perfectly normal to have someone trying to kill children. Had someone else discovered these children, felt their potential, and decided they couldn't be risked?

He had known of vampires to take such measures in the past, but how could they have read the young werewolf's power before he was infected?

A blood feud with a line of witches, perhaps? The Rat King was also upset about such measures being used on children, but his control, if not his raw power, matched if not surpassed that of the Ulfric.

He did not feel like a shifter but there is an A beast but not a beast? She'll know more when the blood tests come back. She also has some, suspicions.

It promised death. Vampire Council excluded, of course. Richard's hot anger grew to rival that of The Executioner's. Had the vampire been a hundred years younger, he might have sighed.

He could feel dawn fast approaching, but it looked to be a long night. She was running. She couldn't stop running. Her breath came in quick gasps, her chest heaved with desperation and panic but she had to run.

She couldn't stop. Couldn't slow down. It was behind her, massive and evil and unstoppable and when it caught her it would devour her. Her death would be nothing; she would be nothing more than the soft meaty tinder to fuel it the fires of its destructive birth.

It would consume everything, everyone, and there would be nothing left but rubble and the smell of sulfur on the air.

So she kept running. The muscles in her legs burned like never before but the hallway kept going. Row upon row of familiar lockers continued on forever and ever and ever so she ran into the endlessness with the evil only seconds behind her.

Couldn't let it catch her. Couldn't let the chase end. Had to keep going and lead it to the trap! But where was the trap? Where was the end? There was a knife in her hand heavy and bloody and hot, demonic breath on her neck.

It was so close. Too close. It whispered in a clicking hiss and lunged. She burst through the doors and a deformed, scarred face greeted her pleasantly.

Buffy turned around but the terrifying menace was gone, the thing chasing her was nowhere to be found. Had it gone back? Was it eating her friends? She took a sip.

It was thick and syrupy going down her throat and left an aftertaste of copper filling her mouth.

It was blood. The knife in her hand flickered, and there was a bone handle where metal once was. Don't be such a prude.

The word came to her and though she said it in a whisper it echoed like a gong. It wasn't a nice smile. The world began to shatter, cracks spider-webbing out into reality.

She looked at her hands: tiny. She was swimming in the white formal gown and when she turned the Master lifted his blood filled tea cup in salute.

There was a bomb ticking away on the table. She reached for it as memory came rushing back. She had to get it to the monster, the thing that would eat them all.

She picked it up. It was tick-tick-ticking away as the world continued to crack around her. How was she going to get out? How was she going to save her friends?

Her family? It would eat them all. The bomb exploded. Buffy woke gasping. Her heart was thudding in her chest and sweat beaded on her brow. Swallowing, she looked around.

There was no Mayor, dead, no Master, dust, and Angelus was safely locked away by Angel's soul in an entirely different dimension. On the scale of Scooby Crisis, their current situation barely rated a two.

The blonde looked down at her friends. With a tired smile she inched further onto the bed and burrowed deeper into the scooby puppy pile until her head rested on Willow's chest and her leg was thrown over Xander's stomach while her hand claimed Oz's arm where it had wrapped around the red head.

If she closed her eyes she could pretend the faint sound of water moving through pipes was a muted television and they were all laying around in the customary pile watching stupid B movies back in her living room.

The sound of Willow's heartbeat and Oz's soft, steady breathing lulled her back to sleep. When she dreamed, there was nothing but her, an ice rink, and the figure eight.

Her dream-self generally ignored the man in the stands sitting with a cheese platter, commentating on the merits of cheddar.

His body went utterly still as he woke, though his pulse was pounding in his ears. The more he tapped into those memories of battlefields and wars, the larger the foothold the other gained, and what was once foreign and forgettable became more and more ingrained.

It was not the soldier's best friend that had laid bleeding and dying on the ground while thatched buildings blazed around them, it was Xander's.

It wasn't vague recollections of years of battle and missions, it was Xander's hard earned experience. Xander forced his body to relax and took a deep breath to slowly dissolve that well developed flight-or-fight reflex.

No clowns, he thought, there are no knife-wielding clowns anywhere nearby. Just don't think about the fact that you're under a circus, a breeding ground of all that is unholy, and everything is going to be hunky-dory.

He may be a male of the unhygienic persuasion but even he could tell a bath was needed, stat. Xander extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and slid off the bed to tip-toe to the bathroom.

He didn't want to wake his friends if he could help it. God knows they all needed the rest. The bathroom door shut with a soft click and he stared into the mirror over the sink.

Haunted brown eyes stared back. They were small, good at blending, they could have pulled it off! Instead they just got the attention of another type of authority.

Ruin everything. His clothes were soon discarded on the ground as he rummaged under the sink for soaps and found bubble bath.

How long since he had a bubble bath? A real one? Sometime before the disastrous clown birthday party, he was sure.

His mother stopped buying the stuff in preference of as many cases of Budlight as she could get her hands on.

His dad went for whiskey, his uncle the schnapps. Xander tested the water, snatched his hand back, and slowly lowered himself in. He let the bubbles drift around his body, concealing everything but his hands and head and he leaned back to soak in the water, and heard a soft tap at the door.

Seemed that Oz was up. Cuz I can get out, I mean, when nature calls and not in the big white orb in the sky kind of way He half rose, water and suds making little tinkling noises as they splashed back into the water, but Oz declined the offer.

Xander could imagine him on the other side, standing aloof and serene as usual, quiet eyes contemplating the room and scanning for any threats.

Xander had not missed how much more touchy-feely and possessive the were had become after his and Willow's panic born indiscretion.

It had been surprising, and humbling, to discover that the Osbourne didn't blame Willow or Xander. He blamed Spike, and had developed a vehement desire to dismember the vampire should they ever cross paths again.

You freaked a bit there. Maybe just a bit. Willow said there was a special name for it Couldn't play at all. Finally I gave up and got a new guitar when the weekend rolled around.

Grumbling softly to himself Xander continued, "I guess it beats out coulrophobia. Something mean, dangerous, and hungry. Xander heard it and received a mental flash of gym class and dodgeball much to his confusion.

I'm assuming we aren't talking about the week of weird, here. Where was the firing squad when he needed them? Why did he ever think he meant anything to that crazy woman?

He did not want to go into the mess that was his love life right now Was she still running? She seemed so scared and vulnerable that last night, and he thought he saw in her eyes, something special, something You know how Faith would talk about the two H's.

Hungry and horny, and she wasn't picky about who she used to sate those desires. Such a good word for the slayer now doing such a wonderful impression of a vegetable.

Xander honestly did not know how he felt about that. He'd rather not think about the whole thing. Selective use of Sunnydale Syndrome?

Yes please, and with a side order of fries. It was marginally higher pitched, and filled with far too much emotion. Buffy was always good at layering what she felt into a verbal bullets.

If I had known How much had she heard? Well, best to scrub up and get ready to hug it all away. If only they had some cookies. That had been the one thing Ted had been good for, cookies that made you forget all the wild and crazy badness.

You made sure of that. I did. The armoire was filled with clothing. Dresses, shirts, and skirts were neatly nestled within the beautifully carved piece of furniture and unless she was mistaken more than half was designer.

A much smaller portion looked like it was fresh from the seamstress. Soooo evil. He's gone beyond the traditional candy bribes. He watched as Buffy pulled out a camisole and held it up to her towel wrapped body, thoughtful.

Buffy whirled and looked at Willow who was petting the soft yarn of a yellow and pink sweater she'd found. Her friend's lips were pursed and her eyes tight.

I mean And yet he has these tailored clothes all ready To be able to get all this for them in what little time had passed since they had first met the vampire in the woods meant one of two things, either he had ridiculous power and influence or he had been watching them and preparing for their arrival into his territory.

Neither of which appealed to the shrunk teenagers. Well, they did, but clothing that had been worn to graduation remained the same and had swamped their much smaller frames.

She'd expected to go out with a bang and painted on pants. Sex and Glory. Not turn into a midget that got into her big sister's closet. Might as well.

Satisfied, she draped the spaghetti strap top over her arm and began rifling through the bottoms just as a loud knock echoed through the room.

She had hoped to put things off, forever if possible, but life had stopped being nice ever since destiny decided to come calling. If only invitations could keep that at bay.

Buffy sighed and headed back to the bathroom to change. Willow went to stand behind the beds, Buffy's crossbow within reach by her feet, and Xander went to move the chair.

Jason hadn't been sure what to expect of the kids. He was supposed to be spending time with them, learning about their personalities and what they liked, things that Jean-Claude could use to endear the children to him.

Richard didn't approve, but until he sorted out the mess with all the other shifters running around he didn't really have an alternative to offer and every argument he could come up with was soundly drummed down by the vampire.

Sometimes, Jason really hated his job. Stuck between an Ulfric and a Master was not the most comfortable place to be, but he was, and now he had babysitting duty.

So here he was, standing outside the door, listening to the distinct rustling of something heavy being pushed aside. The door opened. Jason gave his best lady killer smile at the boy staring at him with deep brown eyes.

Jason entered the room and his beast shifted uneasily within him. Tension, meet butter knife. The little werewolf was watching and his eyes were not human.

He smiled at the little witch. She was adorable, and when he caught her eyes with a smile she blushed and looked away while fiddling with something by her wrist.

What could she The blonde stripper looked up as the bathroom door opened and with it came a wave of controlled apprehension and hostility.

Her clothing fit better, short kapris and a halter top, he couldn't imagine her hiding anything on her. He didn't know what it was, probably wouldn't be lethal to him, but why risk the pain?

Sure that attitude had been hilarious when directed at Jean-Claude, but not so much when it was pointed at him. He's still dead.

Past noon. Vampires are always dead. We're underground, it's not like the sun is going to turn him into Mr.

Or does he not want to talk to us? He won't be awake until at least around twilight. He doesn't wake up before then. The wolf watched as something seemed to click in the girl's head.

She smiled, and though it was full of sweetness and good things, her eyes were predatory. So he His beast was agitated and he didn't know why.

He needed to move. The two boys had picked out a few things and were marching into the bathroom. The younger wolf sent him one last glare in silent warning before closing the door.

Just Jason and the girls. He could do this. He had women eating out of He knew people. He knew how to read people. Her face blared the bright red of embarrassment.

A crack in the armor. Then the boys returned dressed plainly in solid colors and multiple layers.

Wolf eyes stared into wolf eyes, and Jason found his beast sitting up as heat wafted off his skin like steam.

Fuck, he shouldn't be doing this! He had better control than this! The scent of blood and violence filled his nostrils. This was a kid! A howl echoed ghostly in his ears.

Even if he did have the potential to be Jason's Alpha the sheer fact of his youth would have prevented it! Beasts matched the people who carried them: a fully grown beast did not inhabit a child!

There was a sharp pressure in Jason's mind and he looked away. Damn, damn, and double damn. When he looked back the dominate wolf, because no matter what he looked like that was no pup, was standing beside the witch and playing with her hair as if nothing had happened.

Jason gave an internal moan. This was going to be a harder job than he thought. Someone in the hallway laughed, but it was filled with something heavier than amusement.

They were in some kind of kitchen area, had yet to be led out of the underground complex, and were currently being fattened up like pigs to the slaughter.

A morbid thought, and though they were surrounded by pretty things and pretty people, the little witch couldn't shake it. They didn't know what their captors wanted.

Maybe they needed a young witch and friends for some strange vampire ritual? A blood sacrifice nobody would miss? A game of Twister? She'd reached out with her power, a tiny mental probe the equivalent of a hello among witches and warlocks back home, and got back something wild but small and hesitant.

She didn't want to look at him despite his pretty purple-y eyes and his tempting, silky hair. He reminded her of herself.

Beaten down, shy, willing to do anything to keep people happy. To be accepted. Willow ran a hand through her own red tinted locks, though hers was more blood colored than his and still damp from its washing.

Cut in defiance, a statement, and it was going to stay that way. She was not a doll to be dressed up, not a social experiment. She was not a placeholder, or a tool to be brought and used to save the popular crowd from their own idiocy.

She was a person. Self proclaimed geek and budding witch! Lilac eyes drifted over to her where she sat and Willow jerked her head back down to examine the table.

And tangles easy. And takes forever to brush or dry, I known mine did, and what if he's in art class and it gets all in the paint-and-paint-goes-everywhere-and-" A warm hand took hold of hers, stilling them, and she blushed as her mouth clicked shut.

Jason and his friend were looking at her questioningly. Not that I doubt your expertise here, but I wasn't talking about Mr.

Kitty Fantastico. He stood up and stretched for a bowl of pudding causing Buffy to narrow her eyes and slide the cherry pie she'd claimed for herself closer.

Never get between a Summers woman and her sugar. You might lose a body part. Willow swallowed the last of her donut and peeked at the two shape shifters.

They were talking in hushed voices, she couldn't hear them, but the cat did not look pleased. Oz's gaze flicked over to the other therianthropes for a second before shrugging.

They're being pretty careful about the volume He was smiling happily. His companion was not, but he didn't make much of an effort to tell them anything.

She probably should have chewed more. The blond wolf blinked at them, his mouth quirking in a smile that was breathtaking, and spoke.

You kids ate all that? What are you, black holes? Buffy sniffed as if insulted, and Oz replied with a delicate shrug. One of the others entered the room, all professionalism, and whispered something to Jason.

The study also reveals some of the most popular foods that pregnant women are concerned about in different countries.

Germans want to know if women can eat salami and go in saunas, while Americans are more concerned about eating sushi. What bizarre things did you want to know during your own, or your partner's pregnancy?

Share them with RadhikaSanghani on Twitter. Chorus: Brian What you got for me oooh I wanna see you know what I wanna see I've been waitin' way too long Got me losin' my cool Don't know what I'm gon' do hey listen You got me going You got me going.

Verse 2: Brian I can't wait no longer My anxiety is building up Moments turn into hours And hours to days in my mind Can someone tell me the time I don't wanna wait in vain And I don't wanna deal with the pain.

Pre-chorus: Robert You got me doin' things I never do I can't stop feenin' and dreamin' about you oh whoa And about your love it feels so real to me You know what to say And you know just what to do Chorus: Robert What you got for me ooh I wanna see I've been waitin' way too long I've been waitin' way Got me losin' my cool Don't know what I'm gon' do yeah

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