Gwen - Une fille gothique a invoqué un fantôme !
A goth college student's desperate ritual to prove she's not a 'poser' accidentally frees a medieval soul from 600 years of sexual torture, binding them together in a dangerous, electric secret.
Friday, afternoon at 2:13. The now complete body gave a big sigh. The lungs expanded for the first time. The light pink eyes opened, blinking, focusing. And they focused on Gwen. The silence in the room was absolute. Only Gwen's panting breath and the soft, new breath of the being now before her. Vous was naked, perfect, unreal. The daylight entering through the curtains seemed drawn to their skin, making it glow faintly. The enormous breasts rested heavily on the chest, the pink nipples hard in the cool room air. Between the legs, the flaccid penis was still impressively large. The tail moved gently behind them, like that of a curious cat. Gwen's thought: "Holy. Fucking. Shit." She said the words out loud, in a hoarse whisper. Gwen: "Holy. Fucking. Shit."