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My Wicked WaysChapter 49 free porn video
Several lovers later, and I kid you not, I was joined by a lady dressed like Bond villain Xenia Zaragevna Onatopp from the 007 film GoldenEye. She had the costume down to a science, including the hairstyle, and she acted the part as well, riding me as aggressively as she could, even getting a bit rough. She bit my lip, but not too hard, and she also pinned my hands down by my wrists to the cold surface of the mall floor. She clearly knew and grasped that I was more than ready for something like this as a novelty, if nothing else.
“You like, Prophet? I’ll tell you a little secret ... I’m the real deal,” she told me in a very pronounced European accent.
“The real deal...?” I repeated her words for clarity.
“I’m Famke Janssen. I can prove it, if you wish. I enjoyed this role, trust me. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. It was the most pleasurable role I did, though Jean Grey was fun in its own way. I just thought that I would relive it now, and I have ... oh, fuck!” the “Xenia” girl told me to my utter surprise.
“She’s telling the truth. She actually is Famke Janssen. Pretty hot, right?” Marcy informed me before licking Famke’s butt-crack and making her cream herself in response to me.
I couldn’t help explode at that point, shooting my spunk balls deep inside the actress’s soaking wet twat. Famke then knelt to lick and kiss my cock in tandem with my celestial wife, the blonde angel and the raven screen siren eagerly sharing the opportunity to taste her juices on me. This lasted for well over a minute before the two ladies kissed and began making out with each other. They then resumed sucking me for a few minutes, even took turns licking different parts of my prick as a form of sisterhood.
Marcy then mounted me and rode me for a few strokes herself, apparently wishing to get her own juices onto my cock again so that she could share them with Famke. Ms. Janssen, for her part, spread Marcy’s beautiful buttocks to rim her sweet ass just as the angel did to her earlier. She did this for a good while before then slipping Marcy and me some tongue each. It was obvious that they clicked and bonded somehow through all of this teamwork, something that I found very adorable myself.
When I came again, this time inside Marcy, she arose and offered the creampie to Famke in a sixty-nine that certainly got everyone’s attention. The two ladies licked and kissed each other’s gashes for a good half-hour before standing up and pulling me up with them. They each slipped me enough tongue to supply a butcher, or so it felt in any case, before coming up for air. That was enough raucous public debauchery for one night, at least for me and probably for the town, so I officially rang the bell marking the end of the Masque.
“Wow ... that was terrific! Let’s do that again next year, don’t you think?” Ninve urged me, tearing off her Snow White costume after being gang-banged in it several times over.
“Works for me!” Sandra added, revealing herself as one of the three Cleopatras at the festival.
“Tom, is that you?” Catwoman undressed in front of everyone to rush at her husband and kiss him fiercely on the mouth.
“Robin? I should have known! Girl, you really are a sexy cat!” Tom told his ravishingly beautiful wife as he caressed her ebony skin.
“So, just for everyone’s information, anyone who has been intimate with me must come home with me tonight, along with any spouses or significant others. Don’t worry, we’ll have even more fun at my place, and it can last all night long. I want to see some fluids exchanged here, folks! I want everyone’s cock, pussy, ass, and mouth to be sore as fuck! Who’s watching Sargon and Arwen, by the way, if you’re here?” I asked Marcy.
“Oh, they’re currently being watched by Uriel. I’m not even kidding. He chose to take over babysitting so that I could have my fun, too. Yeah, that’s crazy, right? The babysitter is one of the Archangels. Pretty sweet connections, don’t ya think? Not everyone can claim that distinction. He volunteered and kicked me out, told me to ‘get humping,’ to use his words. I think that the dude deserves a major reward and soon, if you ask me,” Marcy winked at me as the throng followed me to my residence.
That was when things got a little hairier than expected. Eight men burst into the crowd with Thompson submachine guns, firing at us on with a truly vicious abandon. Marcy instantly shattered as many bullets as she could, but four people were still slain and six were injured. I instantly smote two men dead and knocked the gun out of a third man’s hands, while Angitia and our ten daughters attacked another three, Sandeep shot one cold dead with his service pistol, and Katrina cut the last man standing open like a piece of cake. Her knife work was deadly as fuck in this case. So was the venom from the snake-goddesses, leaving seven perps and four victims slaughtered like cattle, a total of eleven.
“Surrender?” I confronted the surviving gunman, who nodded and wept at his certain fate.
“Secure him, Sandeep,” I ordered the Chief of Police, who was only too happy to obey me here.
“Here, let me heal them, while you resurrect the dead. I hope that they’re fine with their new undead status, because that is what awaits them,” Marcy urged me, and sure enough, she healed every last one of the wounded.
Meanwhile, I touched each hungry ghost and raised all four of them back to life. Two of them had fucked at least one of my wives, if not more, and that was perfectly fine by me. The other two, who knew who they screwed, but they probably had at least a few lovers in common with me that night. Now risen, the foursome looked at each other, noticed the nudity and the Mark of Mark, and then smiled at me together. They might not have liked the experience of the mass murder itself, but they didn’t mind the result too much. Three of the resurrected were men and one was a woman.
“Look at this!” Stephanie picked up some pamphlets dropped by the assailants, and sure enough, they were very damning.
Every last piece of literature was white-nationalist or white-supremacist in nature. They denounced Haven specifically as a “godless New Israel founded by a degenerate Zionist American Jew who likes to cuckold good Aryan men and kidnap women of all races for his perverted, interracial breeding program and sex cult.” That could only be a reference to me, which made me laugh in spite of myself to see that I struck that much of a nerve with the local racist trash.
“I’ve decided that I’m not resurrecting the seven dead terrorists. I want this whole fucking area to know what happens when you attack Haven and its Prophet, its Lawgiver! That makes two attacks in one night! TWO! On a single holiday festival. It’s now ... fourteen minutes past midnight. Halloween was officially over when the attack took place. The assault took place on All-Saint’s Day by the Catholic calendar, also known as All Hallows Day ... the day after Samhain on the Druidic calendar. From now on, not only will we celebrate Halloween with a masque, but we will hold somber commemorative services the next day, November 1st, in honor of the slain.
“Henceforth, the First of November will be known as Massacre Day, and the event itself will be called the November Massacre. As for you, what is your name and why did your group make two attempts to disrupt our religious and civic festivals, man? Why did you have to make trouble for us? We hadn’t attacked you at all. We didn’t know that you existed. This group, it’s connected to that Halley guy, isn’t it, even if slightly? It can’t have been a coincidence that Halley attacked us earlier and now you have, can it?” I interrogated the lone assailant.
“Halley was to kill you in Phase One of the assault, but when his team failed to contact, we carried out Phase Two. This unfortunately failed. We didn’t tell Halley about these plans, of course. He would have resented being left out of the main attack for sure. He might have told someone, like that Irish bitch that he was with all the time. We didn’t fully trust him. He thought that he was bigger in the Order than he really was, you see, and we fed his stupid vanity while we mostly used him and left out of the planning process. I wasn’t the leader of this team. His name was ... Duggan ... Malcolm Duggan, in fact. He was the one that your Indian slut butchered like a cow,” the last man now spat as he tried to insult Katrina.
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