Anal Sex Slut

Anal Sex Slut


Anal Sex Slut
My name? What name? What *was* my name? Who was I? I couldn't seem to remember. My identity, my past existence prior to seeing her at the store . . . had flickered out, faded . . . didn't exist. In fact, I didn't exist . . . except as a figment of imagination, Fiona's imagination. As consciousness dimmed, the last thing I heard was: "Yes, yes! My most successful creation -- a highly detailed demon lover, a phantom conjured out of a dream. You! You are a creation of my imagination. You don't actually exist in the flesh . . . yet.

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