I met Claire Wilson seventeen years earlier. She was a college band member—piccolo. I was a linebacker. We met at a season's end sports awards banqu...t; I was runner-up defensive player of the year; Reed Billings, a defensive end, won it. We'd only managed 8-4 that year, but at least it wasn't a losing season.Claire was there with other members of the school's band and had bumped into me as I was getting a beer; she'd made me spill it all over her. That led to a lot of stuttering on my part, a. " Kaitlyn tried to laugh at this observation butshe was still terrified of what had happened outside. Megan didn't haveany comment to make. Kaitlyn decided to find the tape that was recordingand she grabbed a few other tapes as well. She wanted enough to be ableto convince her that what she was being told was true. There were dozensof dozens of tapes. She wondered if all of them had transformations.She didn't want to waste too much time, she could also see the car fromout the window. Megan kept. ." slowly, haltingly, pressed up against him she related the story in bits and pieces, just a mechanical recount of the events as he gently wrapped the towel around her and patted her back and hair dry. He even had the presence of mind to push the bloodied clothes behind the hamper, and then tucked the towel in — eyes squeezed shut — to keep it in place."I'll go get you something to wear." He whispered, hurrying away as she shuffled towards the sofa. It took him longer than she expected to come. Soon her body was shaking violently, I could feel the muscles in her vagina contracting around my fingers when it started to quiver and vibrate she began to hold her breath and then suddenly she let out a piercing scream. She went off like an overflowing bottle of cola well shaken.She swung her legs in and smooshed my cheeks together with her thighs. Holding onto the top of my head for balance, she rode out wave after wave of spine-bending spasms until she felt normal and pushed me backward.