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The Ogre’s Play Thing

Published by Faye Parker at Smashwords

Copyright Faye Parker 2012

More hot erotica:

Krystal was seriously questioning her career as they traveled further into the dense forest. At least there was a sliver of light in the distance. Before they traveled for an hour, and the treetops only grew thicker, blocking out the sun.

Deep in Oregon, they searched for something that most likely didn’t even exist.

“Anyone see Bigfoot yet?” Krystal had been asking the same question all day.

Ken turned around, sighing, readjusting the camera on his shoulder. He’d been walking with it all day. He refused to put it down.

He was only the director, but when Brandon said he’d gotten tired of carrying the camera, he took the reigns.

“If we see anything, we’ll tell you.”

“All right, just be sure to tell me. I don’t want to miss this. And make sure it’s not just some naked hairy local drunk on moonshine before you call Bigfoot, OK?”

“Gotcha,” Brandon said, crossing over more stones and then a fallen log.

“Will you be quiet? How do you expect us to film anything with you talking all the time?”

“Oh, you actually believe in this. I forgot.”

Constant sarcasm remarks was the only thing keeping Krystal sane. She sighed, picking up her pace. At least the sights were astounding.

She didn’t often go on such scenic shoots. She moonlit as a sound recorder on the weekends. One job led to another, and she found herself signed on for a job with Ken, that bumbling ass who actually believed in Bigfoot.

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