The bride-to-be, two of her bridesmaids, and Claire's British co-worker all gasped in astonishment as they saw what was going on inside the room. ...he man, presumably the father of the bride, grabbed Claire's shoulders and pulled her away as my cock shot another load of semen. Part of this one wound up arcing through the air and painting the outside of Claire's still-eager vulva. She may have come to her senses, but her body was still begging for my children. The man, who was built. He grunted. She pulled her hand away, “I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t know I was-”“Let’s just get going, it’s really starting to hurt.” “Did you try bleeding it?” the small tusks glimmered in the shine of the desk-lamp, clean and white and jutting out of Carlie’s mouth. She lifted a deep emerald, orcish hand to the ethereal haze in front of her, putting a finger into it and pulling forward slightly. The haze fluttered above a projector of some kind, sitting in the middle of her overstuffed. Technically, her body was older than mine by a few months. She would turn seventeen before I did.I held her as she struggled with the morass of embattled emotions.Suddenly, it occurred to me that I might be able to 'heal' her confusion. I wasn't sure of what I was doing, but it couldn't hurt.I took a deep breath and focused as I had been taught, as I began bathing her in the white and golden lights of healing. I wasn't sure which parts of her emotional makeup to address, so it was a general. "I don't think there is a wet spot," she said coyly."Ahhhhhh," he drawled, "well... that's true, my boxers took care of most of it before, but I'm pretty sure I remember how to make one on the sheets," Steve said gently. His hand found the hem of her nightgown and slipped beneath to slide up her smooth thigh.Barbara giggled happily."Okay," she said agreeably.In the gray light of a cold dawn, making love to his wife didn't seem like the fine idea it had last night. As great as the lovemaking had.