There was only one memory he wished to take with him if he should die and that was Beatrice. A slimy dribble down his chest to remind Paul that he wa... soaked in a disgusting agglutination of thick black liquid. He tore off his clothes and stood naked, but the liquid still clung to him. He needed a shower or a bath. And if that wasn’t enough, then something more radical. Or perhaps he just needed to vomit. Paul didn’t know. Whatever it was, the bathroom was where he needed to be. Urgently. . She lifts her ass up off my stool and starts bucking it into the air. She stops moving for a second, and pulls her wet fingers out of her pussy still massaging her clit with the other. Her whole body tightens up and she let's out a loud moan as she arches up on her toes and starts shaking as a long milky white liquid shoots out of her pussy a couple of feet, some of it hitting my sculpture but most of it hitting her legs and the floor. A second arc comes out with a little less force dripping. More

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