By the time I'd put on my jeans and shoes, my knickers not longercontained a tent-pole, just a sizeable bulge. We went down for breakfast.It was only ...hen we returned to our room that I remembered that I'd beengoing to wear my jacket.We went out shopping. But not to any menswear shops. "I know what sort ofknickers you prefer," she laughed. Not wishing to be seen searchingthrough selections of ladies' underwear, I waited near the store doorwaywhile my wife bought a few things. When she re-joined. Bane, who said he’d be back sooner.Bane, whose fault this whole mess is, is standing there and looking at me – naked except for my living diaper, dripping wet with water, with Krgotu blood, and with my own blood probably forming pink little rivulets down the insides of my legs – and he. Says. Nothing.Nothing. Doesn’t even bat an eyelid.And some small part of my brain is dancing a victory dance and chanting ‘Told you so! Told you so!’ and mooning me inside of my own head (yes, that is entirely. We sat and caressed a little, and looked at the movies.I noticed that he (later found out his name was Gerry and an American who lived in Denmark), had followed and stood at the door in to the room and looked at us. It excited me that he so openly showed his interest in Angel. I took a decision.I had put my arm around Angel, and behind her back, I made a sign to Gerry that he should come to us. He seemed a bit confused, but I signaled to him that he should come. He came over to the sofa, Angel. Surprisingly, making use of his supernatural ability, claws, like that of a bear, materialize from his fingers and tear and slash my underwear savagely. This is enough to show me how seriously famished for sex he verily is. Following this, I watch those menacing-like claws vanish away back into his fingers. I quickly loose the fly of his trousers and fetch his dick out. He leans himself down on me as I stick it into my vagina carefully. I push my face upwards, staring at the roof of the now.