The more Deseret bastards I killed, the fewer someone else would have to deal with on a battlefield. Now if the spell had been performed perhaps a tad...more excessively, the little prick's skull would have been crushed at minimum, or made to completely explode in a glorious spray of Technicolor grey matter and crimson over a pretty wide area. Just like if you'd dropped a ripe melon from a roof onto hard pavement. Splat! That's why it's called the Melon Charm. Perfect for that specialized. I was in heaven. Suddenly, he removed his hands and I was crushed. I wanted those hands back on my tits, but he had another idea. His hands were now pulling on the hem of my skirt, raising it slowly up my leg. He continued raising my hem almost quicker than I could register. I lifted my hips and allowed him to pull my panties off. As he did, I lifted my blouse above my head… He fell down to his knees, with his face was pushing my legs apart as his lips trailed up the inside of my thighs. I. More

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