*In which a 22 year old loser is visited by a demonic spirit- who promises him everything he desires- at a price.*
She came to me in a dream- inhuman black eyes, glossy fire-apple red skin, huge, gravity-defying tits with coal-black nipples. It was like she had sprung to life off the bumper sticker on the back of some old corny old dude’s Chevy s10. With one exception- the heavy, angry looking twelve-inch cook that hung between to thick thighs.
I wasn’t too surprised at first. Since Claire split with me last month, my primary solace had been found in weed and hentai. Yeah, whatever, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say I was proud of it. But the combo tended to produce some pretty out-there dreams. But then, wait a second, how was I still dreaming if I had just *realized* I was dreaming? Or maybe i wasn’t? I was still in my shitty basement room, the posters on the wall were all legible… and this demon lady wasn’t acting like the big-titty half-human ladies who came to call on me usually did.