For real food! We can't live on this stuff! We need sustenance if we want to be able to keep doing this, you know! Now get off of me so we can call Ro...m Service and order some breakfast! What time is it any way?"Charles looked over at the clock on the bedside table. "It's almost ten o'clock. I guess it is time for breakfast! What would you like? I'll call Room Service while you start the shower for us."She wanted her usual—soft scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, fruit and some orange juice. Charles. According to the note, the museum found the contents of the journal inappropriate for either display or academic study.The letter ended with a brief but firm postscript that the museum in question wanted to avoid any notoriety that might come with the publication of this journal. Furthermore, with their delivery of the package to its rightful owner, the firm's obligation to any involved party was now ended.The letter raised far more questions than it answered. Who wrote the diary and when? Who. Even in her astral form Melissa could feel the pull of The Master, and these two were clearly at least partly corporeal. She knew the urgency with which his presence would fill them. If they hadn’t just killed her boyfriend she might even feel some pity for them. “Trying to leave me so soon, m’Lady,” The Master spat. Venom dripped from his tongue as he continued. “I do so try to show my ladies a good time before I suck them dry. You see, that immense sexual charge you feel when. She liked the idea when he suggested she wear it tonight.It had three speeds and he kept switching it back and forth. He kept it on the slowest speed the most, but every so often, he bumped it up to the third speed. He liked the way she jerked when he suddenly increased the speed.Right now, he had it on the second speed, and was too busy thrusting in and out of her to be concerned with changing the speed. He kept pushing in harder whenever she said, "Fuck me hard." He was going faster than he.