.don'tworry, the beast will find us....she always does.". In the forest some miles away Sheriff Maxwell Walton heard a shrillfemale scream from nearby... He raced in that direction and burst into aclearing....and saw a sight that chilled him to the bone. The werewolf, the beast, was very real and held a bleeding woman withone claw, another woman was backing away in horror at her new sex andthe nightmare responsible for it. "How many you son of a bitch...how many have you killed!?", Max. When he landed at the bottom of the second floor landing in a heap, Private Jenkins - the only other man to have made it that far - came tumbling down atop him, his body spraying blood. Conner looked at him and saw his right leg had been torn off just above the knee. Blood was spurting from it and spraying all over the dusty landing. Jenkins himself was already fading, his skin white, his eyes glazed over. Conner took the time to strip the two unfired M-16 magazines from Jenkins' belt and then. We only paused from kissing to let out growls and to gently (and not so gently) nibble and nip at any part of each other we could reach. There was a sound of buttons popping and a little bit of grunting; we were both naked, hands exploring everywhere. I ran my fingers across your chest, through your chest hair, tugging just a little to get your attention. You groaned as my finger brushed your nipple, so I returned to it, tantalizing it, teasing just around it, feeling it harden as I felt your. The place was a homestead. Built in 1847, it has all of the right features for those who enjoy historic architecture. Two massive Red Oak trees guard the main entrance to the house with a wide field stone sidewalk in between leading to a large porch spanning the width of the house. Large French doors with acid etched windows welcomed all who came. Entering the home, you are welcomed to intricate wood trim that had never been painted. It was all hardwood stained with its age and a dark coat of.