Lose The Clothes

The back door to the club was essentially a changing room. Black Alice didn't hesitate to shuck her shirt, pert A-cups bare in the room. Boston Brand, the Deadman himself wasn't shy either, though he struggled with the unfamiliarity of the body he was possessing—the male goth hadn't been exactly an impressive specimen in the dim light of the club upstairs, but down here the pale, skinny figure bespoke long hours in darkness and not much exercise—although his cock, when he shucked his stained tighty-whiteys, was a decent length, Lois noted.

Not to be outdone by Alice, Lois abandoned jacket and heels, then carefully faced away from the young woman and ghost as she removed her shirt. It was silly, considering where they were and what they were doing—all of them would see all of each other before the night ended—but she did it out of instinct. The tight red pants were clinging to her like a second skin, and Lois had to almost peel them off, bending down low.

"I would suck a fart out of that ass," Alice said. Lois turned to see the young woman had removed her skirt and stood there in the altogether. The reporter's eyes went immediately to the witch's mons pubis, which was shaved smooth, making her look even younger.

"Be careful what you wish for, Jailbait." Lois said as she faced Alice, and removed her bra. "By the end of the night, you might just do that." The black lace panties came next, and Lois stood naked as well. Compared to the skinny witch, Lois' breasts looked full and matronly, her carefully trimmed black bush a sign of sexual maturity.

"Hey, I told you I'm legal." The young woman pouted.

"Yes, but they don't know that." Lois said with a wink. "Remember the plan: once we're inside, mingle, wander around, find the book. Once one of us locates it, we regroup, grab the book, and get the fuck out."

"That's right," Boston said. His penis stood out erect already, the pierced head bobbing a few inches in front of him. "Now if you ladies are ready...into the lion's den."