Welcome to prosperous, conventional, and boring Overland Park, Kansas where there are witches, aliens, demons, lesbians, time-travel, ESP, bare feet, and numerous hickeys. has come to conservative Overland Park, Kansas to give all women sexual freedom. Sex in limitless abundance. Sex with no oppressive thoughts. Sex with all its kinky attributes. What the women of Overland Park don't realize is that there will be no love. There will be no men. The women will become sex fiends. And they don't have a choice. But is searching for love without concessions. Love without compromises. Love without moral sacrifices as she fights against the demon's seductions, the demon's minions, the demon's mental twists and surprises. Cause things are not always the way they appear in well-to-do Overland Park. Excerpt: I don't know how I get myself into these messes. But it all started when I observed a mysterious package in a cab in New York City. I was on my way to JFK, going back to Overland Park, Kansas when I spotted what appeared to be an expensive gift bag on the floor behind the driver. The bag was black with black handles, over a foot long but only six inches high. It was the type of gift bag made exclusively for a specific item. I leaned over to peer down inside and glanced at black tissue paper covering the top layers. I studied the bag again and viewed nothing written on the outside. No company name. No website address. But the blackness of the bag wasn't smooth. There were indentations scattered around the blackness. Raised black squares that had square depressions within them. It was a design that meant nothing to me and was hard to spot with the bag's singular color. I reached over, grasped one of the handles, and lifted. There was some weight. The bag wasn't empty. I stared at the two serpents squirming around on my bed. Francis was eating my girlfriend's coochie. Her pale albino lips pressed against my lover's snatch. Gulping her twat. Tasting her cooze. I glared as Francis's long, pink tongue slithered across my woman's hot hole. Dividing her labia. Tapping her clit. Spanking her knob. Flicking her privates. Francis's tongue, twisting back and forth. Forth and back. Lapping. Swirling. Sucking. Slurping on my best friend's muff. Guttural moans spewed from my lady's heart-shaped lips. Tami arched her back, pushing her maroon-colored nipples in the air, gasping from the pleasure between her brown, athletic thighs. "Yeah, right there," she whispered, shaking her head against the pillow where it rested. Her black, braided bangs swinging across her forehead. Her hazel eyes, glimmering with arousal. Her belly, flat. Her vulva, smooth. She shuddered. Her honeypot bubbled and breathed as white cream oozed from her rose-colored vagina.