Gray hair, hairline receding for what looks like quite a while.... yet he just keeps staring at you with an extremely dumbfounded look.Looking down at his clipboard fumbling through page after page glancing up at you you ask "Uhm, doc? Is something wrong?" U... uhmm, to be honest.. you shouldnt be talking, or even be awake" he answered, still with an astonished look."And, why is that?" You asked knowing it should be an obvious question."Uhm.." he looks over at the young lady who just claimed to be your mother and she reluctantly nods showing her approval. He sighs and takes a deap breath, "Well, you were in a really bad accident... a rather large chunk of metal was lodged in your skull, and unfortunately a rather sizable portion of your brain was destroyed...." still looking at you dismayed. "To be frank... you've been basically brain dead for the last four months. Honestly, im at a loss for words..." Well to be perfectly honest, i feel fine... I mean, i do feel kind of weak right. As he downed it, he thought vaguely they probably wanted him drunk, but he knew how to hold his liquor.Everything began to happen at once. He could see that the dancing figure was a mulatto woman, wearing a chain of bones and rattles around her neck so that as she moved, they bounced against her large, firm tits. The figure behind her was a tall, pale blonde woman with a translucent cape draped over her, all the way to the ground, but not fastened in front, so that it swung with her steps, giving brief flashes of white skin, and a small tan triangle in her crotch. The drink hit his stomach with an explosion of heat and desire. His cock leaped to full hardness, frictioning painfully against his pants.A chant had started, following the rhythm of the drum, and his eyes were riveted to the white witch. Her body undulated behind the cape, hinting at a statuesque voluptuousness that had Gene gulping for air. Unconsciously, he unzipped his fly, and freed his tool of its cage. The woman.
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