“What the fuck? I just want to play this game. No need to get all metaphysical ‘n shit.” “This is serious, Giselle! It’s not a game– and it’s called the planchet,” Audrey pleaded while snatching the triangular piece of balsa wood up off of the not-a-game board. She wiggled it back and forth in the round, ebony-hued face of her friend as if that was going to drive her point home. Giselle smacked away the grubby mitt in her face with an indignant look, then rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Audrey. Let’s just keep playing this game,” Giselle muttered acquiescently. “It’s not– okay, fine. Let’s just go,” Audrey replied as she smacked the planchet back onto the center of the board. Following her lead, the other three girls returned their first fingers to the surface of the varnished wood implement and resumed doing what they were doing earlier – sitting cross-legged, huddled around the board, waiting. The four girls swapped between looking at each other and looking at the piece of toy wood. They were all waiting for it to slide in a decidedly paranormal fashion over to some meaningful symbol, letter, or word on the Ouija board. The board itself was illuminated by a singular candle that Audrey’s mother had forbade her from using in circumstances that weren’t emergencies. Audrey had made the executive decision that an opportunity to connect with the ethereal plane beyond this world and make contact with a paranormal entity was, masturbation perhaps, the definition of ‘emergency.’ After all, the city-wide thunderstorm raging outside was, as everyone knew, a veritable superconductor for spiritual chakras – or, something like that. “This is fucking stupid,” Giselle snapped, “one of you is going to move the– oh, fuck,” the heavy-set black girl gasped as the diminutive, seemingly plain scrap of wood shuffled across the board. All four girls kept their silence as they collectively flicked back and forth between looking at the piece and the other three faces they could see, only quicker this time. Steadily, the planchet made its way toward a letter on the board. “Okay, ‘W,’” Claire spoke up first after the planchet stopped. “What does ‘W’ mean?” Audrey queried the group, knowing full well that they knew equally as much as she did. The platinum, hairbowed blonde looked around at her cohorts in this session of delving into the supernatural. Claire shrugged at her, then returned an ambivalent stare at the confuddling board. Giselle rolled her eyes, screwed up her face, and broke eye contact. Hunter, who had been silently following instructions the entire evening, met Audrey’s troubled gaze with her own wide-eyed visage that said more than she could. “Let’s just keep going,” Audrey muttered. In that moment, she was rueing the fact that it was her anointed responsibility to bravely slash at the brambles of the occult and charge the entire expedition forward with the other three in tow. The four girls settled in, and the air thickened as they refocused their asian attention down onto the extramundane instrument being used to communicate from beyond the grave. With an eerie intentionality, the innocent three-cent wooden bauble skated across the veneer Ouija board and continued spelling out a message. “It’s telling us ‘A’ now? I guess it’s trying to spell a word, right?” Claire squeaked as the planchet scraped across the surface of the board. The other girls responded with a collection of nods, not daring to speak a sound. Claire pressed her buck teeth into her lower lip and looked japanese back down at the board. “‘Want’? What does it – what do you want?!” schoolgirl Claire began for the group, only to shift her attention outward into the spiritual plane and call out into the cobwebbed void of the attic rafters. Audrey shook her head as if having just remembered that she left the oven on back in Ghost Town, USA. “That’s right, we have to keep asking questions!” Audrey joined in, “how did I forget that?” Giselle reached over and smacked the back of her knuckles against Audrey’s shoulder and mouthed a ‘duh.’ Audrey couldn’t put together if that meant she was believing in the power of the spirit realm, or if she was just fucking with her. She rolled her eyes, just to be safe. Giselle responded to that kind of gesture. The Stuffed Pussy is much more risqué than Hooters and you are The Stuffed Pussy’s new, 1-and-only attraction. His breath was in my ear and his breathing was slowing down. I was starting to understand what was happening. He tied her wrist to the head masturbation board, blindfolded her, pulling the covers from her naked body he roll toy her onto her stomach. “It is an illusion when applied to the physical world. Not to mention if my coworkers or boss saw, I would be definitely be jobless for the rest of my life. We’ve schoolgirl been having nothing but fun. Besides she is married and that's asian all I need is to get her in trouble with her husband,or have him come gunning for me. "UhHH... uhNNN!!!" And so Bea knew that she could safely masturbate in secret, just as long as she always did it under the covers, and consciously suppressed her normally-loud orgasmic vocalizations, by biting down on her lower japanese lip to turn them into soft whimpers and nasal hums. “Right I don't think these are the permanent type so lift your hair up for me and lean forwards so I can put these on you.” The heat swept through me. I swallowed, my heart hammering in my chest. Jim grinned and replied," Oh hell yes!"