Good, his new hand was there to rub the chin; it’d regrown over the night without issue. He was definitely hungry now though; regrowing a limb was n... small thing.“Shit! Julias, fuck...” The Nosferatu got up from the couch and walked toward him. “Hey, got your hand back.”“Yes.” He took a moment to look himself up and down. Christ he was a mess, torn up suit and covered in Rebecca’s ashes.Memories flooded him like acid. The fire. Rebecca. Viktor and Tony. Jack.He stumbled back until he was forced. Slowly and experimentally he stroked the loose outer skin up and down over the blunt tip-end, considering whether or not to cum that way on the heaving white breasts of the young woman so wantonly lost in the throes of passion beneath him.Then he kneeled on the bed beside her, running his free hand reverently over her firmly ripe breasts, her flat white belly, her tautly molded thighs-all over her unprotected nakedness-his gentle caresses bringing forth small animal mewls of pleasure from. More

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