I could feel them all over me, covering me like a swarm, some jumping on my back and pulling my hair and other climbing up my front. My chest heaved as I could feel my lungs being crushed. At least there was no one here to witness my weakness. I fell to the ground, my body instantly being covered by the mashante. I couldn’t breath. I was smothered by them, suffocating on their rust and salt stench from their blood soaked fur. My vision grew blurry as i struggled against them for all I was worth. Why was I still fighting? I hadn’t cared if I died before, but now that it came to this I did not wish to part with my life. My vision finally faded, and I sucked in my last breath as I laid on the ground, my long immortal life slipping out of my fragile body like water slipping through one’s fingers. Why this? Why now? Why me? Suddenly I heard a noise from somewhere around me.It felt like a weight was lifted from my throat, and I took in another breath, life rushing back into my body. My. She said she only played the slut because I seemed to enjoy it, but that she would never go beyond harmless teasing. That she wasn't 'that kind of girl', and so on. But I wouldn't let the fantasy go. I was unrelenting with constant reminders of how hot she looked, buying her increasingly revealing outfits, and telling her how excited I got when other men gawked at her. All that coupled with constant reminders of my fantasies about her doing good looking guys we'd casually meet or see at a store. I eventually thought I'd worn her down enough to take her to a nearby sex shop. The premise was to take a look at the different toys that might spice up our bedroom. I didn't tell her the real reason I brought her there was to check out the video booths in the back - the booths widely known to have gloryholes. I hoped I'd get her to agree to check out a booth and then persuade her to enjoy whatever penis slipped through. She figured out what I was up to with the mere suggestion of checking.
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