.She picked up her mascara brush and began to work on her eyelids. Ahint of blue, perhaps, she thought. Back when she was a boy, a millionyears ago it...seemed, her eye makeup had given her fits. Eyeliner washard. Lashes were impossible.Now, she was an expert, made so by all those days of dressing up untilit didn't feel like dressing up -- if felt like life. After all theyears in her room, after coming out to her mother, after purging adozen times, after she got married, after she went on. In her human, normal self, she wouldn’t even consider in the most remote possibilities of doing something like this. Maybe it’s because of Hazel. Maybe there is that animalistic part of the cat that makes her feel the way she does.“Now, let us see if I can coax those memories out of you,” she says softly. With this, she kisses him, lightly at first, but then harder as she becomes even more aroused. Her tongue is exploring his goat mouth as her hands caress the outside of his arms. The witch. More

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