Patterns

We humans think in patterns. Say "bread" and a Frenchman will present a baguette, a Russian will present a loaf, and an American will present sliced toast.

But what happens if you, possessing almost omnipotence, have the gift of retroactively changing reality - think of someone as a "whore"?

My sexual arousal - played a cruel joke with her. I've lost control. And let his thoughts - "go haywire."

Of course, Leah, she felt that I was coming - and took all my seed on her face. A face that had nothing to do with the Leah I knew. The first thing that caught my eye and, in fact, dominated her face was huge, thick, obviously multiply augmented lips. In order to understand that she is a professional cocksucker - even a "cocksucker" tattoo on her forehead was not needed. However, she was there. As well as two cock tattoos - one on each of her cheeks. And it doesn't seem to bother her in any way.

Of course, there was no memory left of her natural beauty - her whole face was the anthem of plastic surgery. And not the one that doctors-sculptors create, no. Some kind of butcher obsessed with pornography worked on her face. The shape of the cheekbones, the shape of the eyes, the nose... I only guessed intuitively that it was Leah. It is important to note that it seems that, being the source of the reality change, I myself did not fall under this change. I had no new memories of a new reality in which she looked like this.

Studying her with my eyes, I automatically noted that her hair, the color of a dirty blonde, was tangled and here and there was covered with blots of semen. Some were already dry. But some looked quite fresh. Mine wasn't there - she took all of my shot with her face.

My heart was beating wildly in my chest. The premonition became more and more terrible.

At this time, Leah rose to her feet with some incredibly sexy, plastic movement, as if screwing herself into the air. I felt my sexual arousal returning to me. At the same time - I was able to see her new figure.

Of course, the surgeon-pervert worked here too: huge, spherical silicone boobs were the pinnacle of vulgarity and vulgarity. The nipples were about the length and thickness of my thumbs and protruded through bikini triangles so minimalist they actually exposed her breasts completely, lifting them up. The areoles were brown, almost black, surrounded by a distinctly visible network of veins that covered her fantastic udder.

Contrasted with her breasts was a waist so small that it was obvious that her ribs had been removed. However, everything ended with huge, artificial hips and buttocks.

And everything, literally her entire body, was covered with such vulgar tattoos that I experienced both incredible embarrassment and excitement looking at them.

That wide belt, which she, by misunderstanding, apparently considered a skirt, did not completely cover even her pubis, leaving her broken-down cunt for all to see. Between the huge and thick outer lips of her pussy, hanging three inches, like a leather rag, inner ones.

Leah followed my gaze and smiled. It wasn't her old, sincere smile. It was the wicked smile of a prostitute.

• You look like you didn't remake me, dear. I still don’t understand why I initially scandalized, resisted and resisted. Your idea of making me a whore was probably the best thing we've done since our marriage began! Well, the hubby is pleased, so I can perhaps return to the guests - I have not yet emptied all the eggs and wallets. See you later.. Or whenever you want to fuck me again. Just remember the rule - if you tear me away from a client, you pay for him lost profits!

Leah laughed and pushed herself into the crowd.

Devastated, I stayed where I was, trying to collect my thoughts and gradually, to the greatest horror, realizing that I no longer feel the presence of the **** with which I bent reality ....