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The Weathermen Part 6
As fast as a comet and hotter than the sun, Jack thundered into me. I swear, I could take a pounding, but he hammered into me like Thor. He had this sudden ability to feel me up all over all at once, like he'd grown eight arms. Eight arms to hold me--eight electrical appendages, like the mighty tentacles of our lord and savior, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, only maybe not as magnificent. Well, maybe almost as magnificent. He's not a god. At least not the last time I checked.
"What the hell is going on?" Jack asked, slipping out of me.
Then I realized, all those arms, weren't my imagination. He lit up the room up with his freaky feelers. Yes, I guess he did have tentacles of light. Not eight, like the spaghetti god, just two extra. They flicked and whipped the air around us.
"You aren't going to violate me with those, are you?" I asked hopefully.
Because I did. I really did.
"No," he said, "I'm not going to invade your anal cavity or wring your dick out with these ethereal, auxiliary appendages--no, I'm not."
But he did. He really did.
Alarming how precise the tip of an electric tentacle is.
TBC