phantom troupe number 8

“Rachel?” I asked. Yes, that was right. The amazing blonde who I'd watched sitting at the bar, turning away attempts to chat her up all night. But when I'd gone over to refresh my drink, she'd asked my name, had wanted me to sit with her. To give her a break from the guys trying to hit on her, she'd said. “You... you spiked my drink! What did you give me?”

He got back to his feet and charged recklessly at Reiss. Reiss sent another air blast, but Abner dodged, though he was once more sent flying by the second that came immediately after. To his credit, he got up faster this time and took off again in a serpentine pattern, avoiding the barrage of air blasts from Reiss. Even Noah had to be careful not to be hit. Fortunately, the barrier protecting the crowd was doing its job, and every spell sent towards the stands was blocked. Abner got in close and jumped into the air, about to cut down his opponent, but Reiss was faster, and roundhouse kicked him with an added burst of wind, knocking Abner into the distance.

A few hours later, Sarah once again slipped into her father’s room. She only felt slightly guilty doing so, after all he said that was basically the same as giving consent, right? As the night before he was softly snoring under the machine attached to his face and was laid out flat on his back. She crept around to the side of the bed and stared at him. It was just a light white sheet spread out over her dad’s naked body. In the moonlight she could out the outline of his body easily. Though right now all she could focus on was his dick. She could see the lump right there, a small round bump right below his belly. She bit her lip apprehensively.