In Stacey’s hands, the hair was a weapon of unimaginable power. “Is this Jenny?” Stacey asked carefully. Porn I smoothed it gently, almost tenderly, on the floor and gazed at the hair clippings sealed inside. I knew I couldn’t go on this way. “The one and only,” Jenny laughed. When Stacey touched me, her hand felt like a branding iron resting on my thigh. “There is no Jenny,” Stacey told me. Just then, mindless rut seemed particularly attractive; the knowledge that Stacey wanted it for me just made it easier. If I were lucky, she’d never find out and the issue wouldn’t come up; if not, well… “Hair, and not your color, either. I’d been mind-fucked to the point where I didn’t even really care anymore, mostly. “And what do we have here?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, sounding as guilty as I looked, I’m sure. I rolled silently to my feet, stifling a sigh as I flexed my
