That could mean food. But it also meant people, and they tended to have pitchforks and superstitions. I cursed as another growl escaped my gut, and lo...ked again at the smoke. I found myself, drawn nearly against my will, walking forward. I pulled the hood of my long coat forward, settling it over my compact horns. I found myself gripping the wire hilt of my knife; a large dagger with a wicked curve, my only possession of worth. It was. . . comforting.It only took an hour to reach the source of. I figured I might as well submit them since, although I think they would make a great book, it is never going to get published.These are real events that happened to me personally, however since they happened at various points throughout the years, I might forget a detail or two and I might make certain details a little more grandiose. But all of the important, major stuff is forever etched in my mind. All names are, of course, completely made up.First, an introduction: I am now a 23 year old. Christopher’s Place as it was a quiet pedestrian area and close to the Multi-story car park at Selfridges. By coincidence the Olsen’s had their London law practice just around the corner in Wigmore Street. The waiter came out and I ordered a small coffee and a sandwich which I consumed whilst Mum plied me with questions about how the exam had gone and if I had had a good journey, I didn’t mention Gill, but I showed her the CD from Lauren and Lucinda and promised to let her borrow it. The. ##### Bunny woke up with a very sore cunt, which was not surprising, considering how hard she had gotten the shit fucked out of her last night. Before even opening her eyes, her hand glided down to her soft, swollen cunt, and she gasped loudly just from her fingers grazing over her tender lips. She tried to remember everything that had happened the night before, but she was ditzy enough even without being totally fucked up. Her manager, the beautiful Amazonian Ciara Chocolate had led her to an.