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The girl is beautiful, she shows no signs of waking up, and there’s a beast on the loose. It’s probably too late anyway. That’s your justification for prolonging the moment. You slow yourself down, back away from climax, and resume your exploration of your unknowing companion’s body. Always rubbing and playing with yourself, continually teasing yourself on the brink, you lean over and bring your lips onto one of the two orbs of flesh exposed to you, unable to resist the urge to taste. You take her nipple into your mouth and suck on it, while your remaining free hand goes to town exploring her pussy, sliding one, then two, then every finger you can inside her and feeling the warmth within. You are utterly oblivious to the fading of birdsong around you and the slow build-up of heat in the air. Your difficulty breathing you assign to the proximity of orgasm, and you fail to realise the true thickening of the air beyond normal parameters. You don’t see that it is getting darker all around you because from your point of view it’s already dark, with your face so close to the ground. When the girl wakes and begins writhing against you, grabbing your bits just like you’ve grabbed hers, it doesn’t register. Only when she pulls you up for a kiss and you see her eyes do any alarm bells ring, but by then it’s far too late. Fire literally burns inside her gaze, and you can feel the same building at the edge of your consciousness. Soon it consumes you and you feel your body shifting, your soul fading corrupt. By the time you and your still nameless lover fully intertwine together, mutually inside each other, the transformation is complete. Gone are Mortimer Halfheart and the farm girl; arise two rabid sex demons, free at last of the underworld to walk the realms of men and make them their own...