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Until the first string of changes began to hit him.He felt his head, face, and hair change each time the next head option was chosen by his wife. The elastic feeling of changing features, along with the sudden itch of lengthening hair, or the absolutely weird sensation of hair being sucked back up into his scalp was beginning to make him ill when it stopped.His head felt heavy, his features immobile and a reaching hand confirmed his initial fear. His head was now made of metal - she had given. Mike, the motherfucker balls deep in my wife's neck seemed to be the ringleader as he barked directions to the group of dads degrading my once innocent angel. Her hair was knotted in a mess as he used her ponytail to furiously jerk her head up and down onto to skinny dick. Her face was visibly flushed, even under the cover of darkness that hid their adulterous actions. I noticed her blouse was ripped open and one breast was awkwardly flipped out of her black and pink bra. Mike reached down and. He completed his oration and the crowd burst out with applause.LeMaun excused himself to go to the restroom. As he shook off the excess into the urinal, the door swung open. It was the short dude that had just been on stage. LeMaun flushed and then washed his hands. He took a little longer than usual. When they guy came to the sinks, he said, “Enjoyed your performance!”“Thank you! I’m glad you liked it.”“Yeah! That shit was deep.” LeMaun held the door open.“Thanks, man,” the poet said walking. He broke into a cold sweat but maybe he was just shocked by what had happened within a day. He just stood there and stared at her. Her eyes were locked into his. The moment he broke the eye-contact her eyes closed halfway and rolled up. Her lips were slightly parted and she was sweating. Locks of her hair were stuck here and there on her face, the rest of it was dishevelled. Her dark chocolate coloured skin shone in the dim streetlight filtering in through the windows. Her supple blemish free.
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