Chapter Twenty-One

Cory

I look over and then do a double take. “Oh my gods, is he dead? Did your cunt just kill him ?”

“Oopsie daisy,” Delaney giggles as she falls off of Adam’s corpse.

A shift happens in the air above us and a tingling awareness creeps over my neck, which I at first wrongly assume is Adam’s spirit leaving his body and saying its last final goodbye, but which I then correctly determine is Leo becoming active once more.

“Oh my gods, you killed Adam with your sex magic, and now his spirit has given your gargoyle lover the power he needed to break the curse! You’re a demoness!”

And yet, I still don’t scramble away, because her breasts…boobies…tatas…are in my face and now trying to smother me. She must need a second soul to help Leo further.

I guess I can be a willing victim.

I lay down, getting my bottom lined up with Adam’s now dead balls…wait…they’re still warm.

“Are those…mashed potatoes?” a ravenous sounding gargoyle asks.

I try to mumble an assent, but Delaney’s plump flesh promptly silences all my sound.

“Here, let me help you out.” A deep voice echoes from somewhere beyond. Or maybe it just sounds that way because my ears are ringing and I can’t see anything past this pretty pair of plump pumpkins. Ooh, mental alliteration.

Delaney moves and I blink in the sudden absence of my woman lover’s love bags, watching from a removed sense of person as the headmaster I’ve always admired (not that way you sicko) uses a washcloth to gently clean Delaney’s face. Aww man, she looked so pretty with my cum all over her face, too. Rude.

Zac puts another washcloth into my hand, and I stare at it until I realize he means for me to help out in Delaney’s more…delicate areas. Aww, he’s being sweet because he’s never played in her wonderland before. I suppose I haven’t either, but I feel like that’s really just semantics at this point.

I get her somewhat clean before I am forced to look to the corner of the balcony where a dark shape is bent over our offering and scarfing carbs, fisting the potatoes into his mouth. Growling and slurping noises are abundant and I wonder at the fact that I’m most bothered by him ravenously consuming cold mashed potatoes. Cold instant mashed potatoes. “Wow. Demon boy wasn’t lying about the mashed potatoes. Those really do it for you, huh?”

“Th-that’s a…that’s a gargoyle. Delaney, your gargoyle isn’t gargoyling very well. He’s…away from his perch. I mean, I know you said that he as alive and simply cursed, but…I’m pretty sure you failed to mention the part where he springs to life and swings a third arm around in the nude.”