The Book Flips Open

A sticky white dribble ran down the reporter's fingers. She panted, unfamiliar muscles tightened and relaxed as her tiny dicklet flexed in her fingers. Only an inch...and yet even with that release she felt somehow...unfulfilled.

Then, on the table by the laptop where she had laid it, the book flipped open.

The suddenness of it made Lois jump in her chair. She hadn't touched the book...but it had opened on its own, as if an unseen hand had turned the cover. Lois froze and looked about, but there air was still...the door locked. The reporter was alone in the apartment.

Curious as ever, she glanced at the page that the book had fallen up to...and saw on the page, something not unlike a medieval version of the pornography that had made her little cock spurt its first sticky load. A pale figure with breasts, long hair, and a pathetically small cock was bent over as a demon, crimson of skin with dark horns, but much larger breasts and a much larger cock plundered the smaller figure's asshole.

There were words on the page, beneath the painted image. At first, they didn't look like English...but the more that Lois stared at the characters, the more the letters seemed to resolve themselves into words and phrases. Not English, but Lois thought she could feel the shape of the sounds in her mouth. Asif they wanted to be read aloud.

The reporter's fingers touched her lips. A pink tongue flicked out, tasted the salty, bitter splooge...her own splooge...and somehow that made her tiny cocklet harder than before.