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Chapter 2 by Overcharge Overcharge

Who's the lesbo we're converting today?

lesbian tries to exorcise male ghost with sex

Selena stands there for a long moment, her expression a mask of pure, unadulterated annoyance. She stares at the empty air where your voice seems to resonate, her black painted nails digging into the plastic handle of the vacuum. She hates being told what to do, especially by a roommate who doesn't even contribute to the utility bills.

She lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly under her black tank top. She looks around the apartment, her eyes landing on the dusty corners and the cheap molding, realizing that if she wants peace, she might have to endure this ridiculous condition.

Fine. Whatever. Just get it over with.

She mutters the words in a monotone, her face remaining perfectly still despite the internal embarrassment bubbling up. She sets the vacuum down on the floor and sits on the edge of her unmade bed, her fishnet stockings stretching over her long, pale legs. She reaches for the hem of her black tank top and pulls it over her head, tossing it aside.

Her pale skin glows in the dim light of the apartment. Beneath the tank top, her breasts are large and soft, the dark black tape covering her nipples standing out sharply against her skin. She leans back on her elbows, her muscular arms supporting her weight as she looks up at you with a look of practiced indifference.

She reaches down and unzips her leather pants, pushing them down past her hips along with her fishnets until they pool around her boots. She shifts her position, spreading her legs slightly to make room. She reaches up, her hands guiding your massive, unwashed cock toward her chest. The scent of you is heavy and musk, but she doesn't flinch. She presses the weight of your shaft between her heavy, soft breasts, squeezing them together tightly to create a deep, fleshy cleavage.

She begins to move her torso in a rhythmic, sliding motion, using the friction of her skin to massage you. Her eyes remain fixed on a spot on the wall, refusing to show how much the sensation or the sheer absurdity of the situation is affecting her.

What's next?

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