She’s stronger than she looks

You bend to tear the nightgown apart. She smashes her forehead straight into your nose crushing it.

In your pain, you reel back, pulling down her nightgown. Your blood gushes from your face and splatter all over her bare big tits. Slick and red. Wanna slick your face all over those soft puppies.

She sees your joyful smile of blood and thinks you’re psychotic. She scratches across your face and knocks your head into the wall, leaving a portrait of red. She scoots out from under you.

Oh how her tits wiggle and jiggle. So majestic. Natural for sure. Plastic would never move like that. The blood looks like a Sports Illustrated ‘painted on swimsuit’ photoshoot. Except those sexy nipples aren’t hidden at all. They’re right there to touch.

You reach out and flick one. You giggle.

Her knee connects with the side of your head. You collapse into the wall, but don’t fall. You have to keep looking.

Even though she’s pulled her top up, the wet blood makes the fabric cling to her body. You can see the perfect shape of her tits. So perky. She could walk around braless without a worry.

You try to tell her how good she looks.

You puke.

You gotta bad concussion. Things are not looking so good. She’s getting blurry. She waivers into and out of reality. Your blood soaked big-tires angel walking the hall toward you.