Sculpted Masterpiece

Melvin's head swirled in a rainbow of colors. Leprechauns leapt off the rainbow, tossing gold in the air and proceeded to engage in violent anal sex. Then a three-headed dog ran by, snatched one anal humping Irish man and gobbled him up, chased a few more leprechauns around, found a suitable female one and proceeded to give it some hardcore anal.

Melvin looked away and saw the witch and Bridget on a nearby cloud. They were naked and kissing, the witch running her hands through Bridget's shoulder length blonde hair. The witch's hair was no longer in a ponytail but flowed down her back like a black cape, streaks of white running through it like lightening bolts. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they caressed each other, Bridget's hands roaming the witch's stomach then moving up and rubbing and squeezing the witch's supple breasts.

"What are you doing Melvin?" Abigail's voice came from behind him. Her hand reached out and fell on his shoulder.

"Are you watching those women? What sluts. You should come back to me. Forget about them, and forget about that whore at the cafe. Courtney, was it? Come back to me. You know you want to," her voice breezed in his ear.

Melvin pushed her away without looking back and walked towards the forms of Bridget and Morgan. Their sliding, nude bodies beckoned him, and he couldn't take his eyes off their two figures. He'd forgotten how amazing the witch was shaped; how she was a sculpted masterpiece of human flesh. Could something so perfect even be human?

Bridget saw him approach and breathed, "He's awake." Morgan was kissing her neck and look up from the valley of Bridget's shoulder.

"No, he's just dreaming. Come here, Mel baby. This one's gonna be a doozy, and you're not ever gonna wanna wake up," the witch said, reached out her hand and grabbed Melvin by his erection. Funny, he didn't remember undressing.