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As paranormal entities, their abilities far surpassed any flesh and blood animal. The power of the dead, so ancient, yet even in the 22nd century, modern technology couldn’t compete. The beasts also surveyed the city of Portland, south of Augusta and on the coast. It was a larger and more urban city, and its airport was currently serving as the base for this attack. The government had seized the buildings to shelter troops and store equipment, while every runway and hangar was occupied with planes, jets, and helicopters. For a military force this large, infrastructure was a necessity, and they didn’t have amateur the time to build a city of tents on rugged land. With endless military vehicles rolling onto the facility, the press did everything they could to gather information. News vans were parked on the grass surrounding the airport, with cameras always Big Tits looking through the chain-link fence. Crews worked in shifts to keep eyes always on the airport, but many unlucky souls had to camp out, members of smaller press groups or inquisitive citizens. One of them, a young field reporter for the Central Portland Broadcasting Company, was nauseous with unease. Nayara Runihura, Channel 8’s diversity mascot. Her father was Tutsi from Rwanda, her mother was Spanish. Africa, Spain, and the Middle East were currently dominated by an Islamic Caliphate that came to power during the fifty years of chaos following the rise of the undead. The Caliphate was currently under Sharia Law, but when her mother became pregnant, it took a violent and draconian tone, especially against women, prompting her parents to flee to the states. Her dark complexion and European hair and bone structure made her a unique beauty, with a nice bust to show off. She originally intended to become a writer, but she had great luck with the camera. But now, her bewitching visage was dimmed from the conflict in her heart. Her journalistic instincts told her to do whatever it took to get the scoop, but part of her didn’t want to know what was going on. There wasn’t just intensity in the air, there was fear. There had been no White House press briefings, barely any statements to the public. The government was acknowledging that a hostile force was occupying the city of Augusta and that anyone who approached the city was killed or captured, and they had declared that they would be attacking that hostile force, but they hadn’t identified who it was. An enemy country? Terrorists? Marauders coming out of hiding? If it was the undead returning, they would have let the world know immediately. There were plenty of rumors that the Misato syndicate was involved, not that she could do anything with that. Lee Misato was nicknamed the Capone of the North because he had his hands in everything, including the media. Any Maine newsgroup that tried to write about him voyeur or bring his operations to light ended up torched, and investigators from out of state never found anyone willing to speak up and fill in the blanks. Countless newbie journalists had met their end because they had more courage than brains. Like them, while she didn’t have any answers, but she had a chance to find some. General Burns, he was in charge of the whole operation. Meticulous, dedicated, and professional, he was everything one would expect of someone in his position, and his pepper hair and mustache were like a billboard describing his position in the military. “Do you want Mommy to kiss you in other places?” Mommy sniggered, her nose crinkling. I let my mind grow blank (it wasn’t hard), and relaxed, letting transient thought take over. Me inside her. I glanced at Swapnil and saw the kind, friendly, and caring smile lighting up his face. The musky aroma made me suck hard enough to pull the other nut in. They both clogged the opening of my throat, so I tilted my head back and sucked even harder. Her cunt lips were stretched tightly around Rogue's shaft. Three huge analinguses retrieved fifteen inch wide unborn spawns from a pink protrusion inbetween Captain Stella's legs, then placed them amongst those piles nearby. “Go make Dad regret choosing Vanessa's cunt over yours.” They took turns with me in this position for a while. The shimmering tones amateur turned to garish pinks and reds before our eyes, and the sober people we were, changed to carnal, hedonistic things, engaging in the needs of our bodies without any heed for the world. I should have just put it in her mind I have this power and have her accept it. I never knew what my clit was until I was a bit older, and my uncle bit it, and my mum helped soothe it with a warm bath, and a flannel on it for the evening. I figured a bigger girl like voyeur her could handle it, but I was surprised to feel just how tight she really was. Ashley enjoyed the view for another moment before Big Tits ending the dare. She felt so naughty, bent over like this! Laura's opinion on this would flip back and forth: sometimes she had herself convinced that she was a proud lesbian hero, looking after herself and the girl she cared about. It had even deepened in color from when we started. "Shhh stay still and let your muscles get used to it" I told her. They were probably re-evaluating our pets, going back to thinking they were just people in costumes. She had pointed ears on the top of her head, like Momo’s, but longer and skinnier. Carolina looked at him and smiled, and right as she turned back around, she felt Michael’s hands on her hips as he guided her to back into him. It was morning and my day was wrecked.