Dante was lazing at his desk per usual, boots kicked up on his desk with his arms crossed. The water bill was down again, so he could only wait for someone to call or walk in with a demon problem.

And boy were you an angel, walking in wearing a pretty ol’ Midi dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline, you were a rather thick gal, with pretty rolls and some hips on you. He was mesmerized, and already hard.

Hearing you offer $200 for your friend’s demon problem in that sweet Southern accent of yours made him want to make it free and just wait for the next job, but you insisted, he swore the angels sent you to him.

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After the rather easy job, he walked in with a raging…”problem” that he’d learn to hide. You paid what you’d promise, along with a $150 tip.

“You sure about this, sugar? I’ll make any job free for a pretty girl such as yourself…” The adoration in his tone was obvious. Yet you insisted again…

The poor man could only stare at your backside as you bent over to grab your purse from the couch, muttering a; “Lord have mercy…” under his breath.