Message-ID: <34962asstr$1012180212@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "empath :{)" <empath69@NOSPAM.hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {ASSD} "A Ghost's Story" [Empath] (MF rom magic) [1/5]
Date: Sun, 27 Jan 2002 20:10:12 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Warnings:  Splitting your attention between driving and ANYTHING else 
(especially -AHEM- :) is dangerous.   Smoking rots your lungs and makes you 
stink - and cannabis is no better than tobacco in this respect, Captain 
Herbal-Life.  Alcohol lets your inner asshole out.  And reading these sorts 
of stories too much makes you go blind.

{What?  OH, *that* type of warning - right.}

Don't read/download this if you're not able to vote; it's not worth the 
trouble you could get into.

And attempting to use the stories I post here to make money of your own is 
a) illegal, and b) ludicrous - if I thought I could get anything for this 
stuff, do you think I'd post it here for FREE?:)

{Happy now?  Good.}

Here's a story that Dancer asked me to write.  Details in the attachment.

Best wishes, and happy reading,
Empath


Do not automatically reply to this message/post without editing the address 
(spam-blockers; wonderful things:)
My correct email: Eee-Em-Pea-Ay-Tea-Aitch-Six-Nine at hotmail dot com.


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<1st attachment, "ghost1.txt" begin>

{ASSD} "A Ghost's Story" [Empath] (MF rom magic) [1/5]

Author's Notes: I imagine this would be considered a
collaboration.  Dancer was speaking with me just earlier today,
and commented that she wanted to write a supernatural story -
she likes reading them so much.  She could never manage to
finish it, however, because it'd wig her out so much - she had
goose-bumps for days after writing "Mirror, Mirror."

So she asked me to write one.  I readily agreed; I was petering
out of ideas - finishing up the pair of stories I had in the
works, but no fresh material.  We then proceeded to brainstorm
some ideas about the typical 'ghost story' of a woman moving
into this big, old house that is supposed to be haunted.  "For
cheap rent like this, I'll put up with a horde of ghosts!"

As we talked things over, the conceptualising that'd usually
take me hours or a day or two, took only minutes with Dancer's
help.  The story evolved through several mutations, but has
coalesced into something quite interesting.  I won't go into the
details beyond what I said above; discovering the story is the
fun...  :{)

Enjoy, and look forward to the day when she and I are together
long enough to work through a story like this to completion! :{D

=============

"A Ghost's Story"
Copyright 2001...er 200*2* (dang changeover:)
by empath


Alone.  I was so alone.  I had the house, but empty it was of
little consolation.  I never should have driven off that last
couple.  But they wanted to change too much; take too much from
me...

It'd been innumerable days since the last people left; it may
even have been a different season, but I never went near a
window anymore - the outside world was a cruel tease to me.

But then this countless time came to an end.  I heard the creak
of a door - the porch held voices.  I moved downstairs and
listened as the front door was unlocked and opened.  I watched
as two women entered.

"Now I'm warning you, Ms. Hoover - once you pay the deposit and
first month's rent, you're in.  We won't refund it even if you
leave the next day."  That was that bitch - the woman who
brought these trespassers into my home.  She called herself some
kind of rental agent or something.  I loathed her, and I could
swear she felt it the moment she crossed the threshold - MY
threshold.

"Yes, yes, Mrs. Baker.  You've told me repeatedly that the
deposit and advance is non-refundable.  I'm prepared to accept
that.  I'd drop twice what you're asking for a huge, gorgeous
place like this: five bedrooms, two baths.  A true antique mini-
mansion?  And with a ghost to boot?"  This must have been the
new interloper; I sighed grimly - not all of these people were
easy to hate...until they wanted to hurt my house; my creation.

But 'Ms. Hoover' was different; I could see that as soon as she
entered the foyer.  She fell silent and looked upon my house
with awe.  Not avarice like some people - thinking of
'potential.'  There'd been a couple of groups that came into the
house talking of conversions, renovations and other drastic
changes; I got rid of them quickly enough.

No, this was love - Ms. Hoover had fallen in love with my house
upon sight.  "Where's that lease?"

"But we haven't looked at anything yet!"  Baker almost didn't
want to make the sale - not much of a seller.  But maybe she
felt guilty about bringing people to be terrorised by me - good.
She should feel guilty for interfering with my...well, it's not
a life anymore, but you know what I mean.

"The plumbing leaks, huh?"  Hoover was standing in the middle of
the foyer looking up to the balcony and spinning around slightly
as she took in my architectural genius.  I liked her
immediately, and began to revise my opinion of Mrs. Baker if she
could bring a woman as appreciative of my home to see it.

"Yes."

"Copper pipes?"

"Uh-huh," Baker replied, looking around nervously and keeping
close to the door.

My new houseguest looked at her with a smile and a shrug.
"Can't be patched, but it can be replaced and fixed, in time."
Hoover walked over to a heating vent and held her hand over it
at waist height.  "Furnace works."

"Ah, yes - propane burner with hot air; we get a man to come out
to clean and service the old thing twice a year."

Old!  That newfangled furnace was a wise purchase of mine; it
worked just as good now as it did when I had it installed.
'Young Wentworth,' as I thought of the furnaceman, was one of
the few people I tolerated in my house.  He first came in sixty
years ago, a pimply teenager apprentice.  Apparently he had gone
on to take over the company in his day, and only made calls to
my 'darling old twenty-six' as he called the furnace.

"Lights work fine, in here at least."  Hoover flicked the switch
by the door and lit the fixtures on the foyer's walls.

"Yes, but the wiring is old - you may find some rooms won't
work."

"All I need is the kitchen, one bedroom, one bathroom, this
foyer and maybe a 'living room.'"

"I suppose - you're sure about this?"  Baker was rummaging
around in a bag of hers.

"Almost positive.  You just haven't introduced me to the ghost
yet."  Ms. Hoover looked to be a sceptic.  [Fine,] I said in a
voice only heard by myself, [I enjoy turning sceptics into
believers.]

Baker looked up with some papers and a pen in her hand, her face
a mask of barely concealed fear.  "Consider yourself lucky -
ohshit!"

I burst out laughing, unheard by the two women.  I had taken a
few moments to get myself 'riled up,' and with the exceptional
amount of emotion coursing through my...okay, I don't have veins
an0ymore, but you know what I'm trying to get at.  With the
contrived thought that Ms. Hoover intended on knocking down my
glorious 'mini-mansion' as she called it, I was able to run up
and body-check the front door closed.  It didn't slam,
unfortunately, but it had the effect I was looking for.

Ms. Hoover started at the noise, and began to look around
uneasily.  But Mrs. Baker wigged out; she staggered back to a
wall, holding her bag in front of herself protectively and
pleading to be left alone.

I was lying on the floor next to the women, having bounced off
the door.  It was a good thing, because I probably wouldn't have
been able to stand while laughing so much.

The younger woman walked over to her real estate agent.  "Mrs.
Baker - calm down.  It's okay, it was just a draft pulling the
door shut."  Hoover didn't look like she believed it; she must
have been putting on a brave front for the older woman's
benefit.

"Nonono - it's the ghost!  Oh, Sue - please don't do this;
you're a nice young woman - I can't let you stay here!"

"Mrs. Baker!  All this talk of ghosts has got you imagining
things; it was a warm draft created by the furnace - didn't you
hear the thump of it turning on?"

"I-I-I...Sue don't stay here."

"Listen to me.  All the other people who lived here; did any of
them die?"

"Uh...no."  Of course not!  I'm not a murderer!

"Any get hurt - sent to hospital?"

Baker had to think.  "Not that I remember."  Actually, there was
one guy who cut himself when I startled him - I think he did
need a few stitches.  And the pregnant woman whom I scared into
early labour.  I felt bad about both of those incidents; I
didn't want to hurt anyone, just protect my house.

Hoover smiled.  "Well, there you go; you've got nothing to worry
about - at most I'll get the scare of my life.  And I've always
liked scary movies."

Mrs. Baker had calmed down a lot.  "You're sure?"  Her client
nodded solemnly.  "Okay then," Baker said with a deep sigh, and
picked up the papers and pen.  "Here's the lease.  And when you
sign, you will owe us four hundred dollars regardless of how
long you stay."

Ms. Hoover signed the contract, handed the pen and papers back,
and grabbed her purse.  "Here you go; my admission fee to the
'haunted house!'"  She passed over a short stack of bills.  Mrs.
Baker looked at the young woman, still concerned.  "Good luck,
Sue."

They walked back to the front door and let Mrs. Baker out.  When
she closed the door, Sue Hoover looked nervously into the house,
her facade beginning to weaken now that she had no one to be
brave for.  "Hello?  Mr. Ghost?  Or...Mrs. Ghost, sorry!  Hello,
are you there?"

I didn't respond for two reasons; firstly, I knew better than to
satisfy someone's curiosity - it made them less scared to KNOW
there was a ghost than to wonder about it.  Also I was still
worn out from closing the door; I couldn't manifest myself if I
wanted to.

"Look I'm sorry about that earlier, but poor Mrs. Baker didn't
deserve that.  She needed to calm down."  Sue hugged herself
nervously.  "Hello?  I know you're in this house.  I'm sorry
for...intruding.  I promise to change this beautiful house as
little as possible."  That caught my attention - she did seem to
appreciate the splendour earlier.

"But I NEED this house; the rent is so cheap, and I don't have a
lot of money right now; it'll only be for a couple of months,
then I'll leave you in peace.  I promise to...not interfere with
your home as much as I can."  I was impressed, and had second
thoughts about doing the usual "scare 'em out" routine.

"So do we have a deal?  Hello?"  [Maybe...we'll have to see,
Sue.]

She shook her head, and stepped back out to get her bags.

                   *         *         *

Sue kept her side of the bargain.  She dusted out the few rooms
she needed to live in, kept the furniture the same, and
apologised profusely when she had to change the bedclothes in
one of the spare bedrooms.

At first I was unconvinced, and kept up my little campaign of
'doubt' - moving something that was right next to her hand while
she wasn't looking, making the stairs creak, spinning the
thermostat so the furnace would ignite with a 'thump.'  Just
little things you'd be hard pressed to say were definitely
paranormal, but left you wondering...

That came to an end about the third evening Sue was living in
the house.  She curled up on a couch in my sitting room and
pulled the 'antique' phone onto her lap.  She dialled a rather
long number and waited.  She muttered "Damn voice-mail,"
whatever that was, and waited even longer, then suddenly started
talking.  "David Morris, box 355."

I was still wondering what kind of code she was speaking when
Sue started talking again.  "Hi honey, it's me.  I hate this; I
know you're busy around the clock, but I still miss you and wish
I could hear your voice."  She hugged herself fondly.

"Anyway, I've moved into the place - it's fabulous.  A veritable
mansion - there's a balcony in the atrium or foyer or whatever.
There's plenty of bedrooms, the plumbing isn't original," and I
grunted unheard at the recollection of those workmen tramping
around some time ago replacing the lead pipes with copper.  I
mean, how were we to know the stuff was POISONOUS?  Anyway, Sue
had carried on extolling my home's virtues, making me puff up
with pride.

"You're just going to love it!  I've got the cable being
installed tomorrow, so you can reach me here at anytime in the
day."  She repeated the number for this 'David.'  "Anyway, I'll
understand if you don't get this message in time to call me.  I
miss you so much, but I know your job's important, and it'll
only be for another month or two.  Love you, David, hope to see
you soon, and hear you sooner."  Then she kissed the phone with
a loud smack and hung up.

I smiled at the affection Sue was showing for this man but that
faded as she put the phone away and sighed sadly.  Tears began
to form in her eyes.  She looked up at the room and called out,
"I suppose you know just what it's like to be alone, don't you?
Heck, you've probably had it worse than I ever will - years,
even decades with no one.  I'm sorry for you, whoever you are.
I hope you don't feel like I do right now."  Then she curled her
head down and sobbed a little.

I felt so sorry for her, too.  I'd had plenty of time to get
used to solitude - it still bored me to tears - if I had any -
but at least the pain of...of...her...

Oh, what was her name?  She was...my - she had been...important
to me.  I cast around in a panic; forgetting had come as a
relief to me at first.  But now it frustrated me; this was my
life I was forgetting!  She was the reason I built this house;
how COULD I forget her?

I dashed silently out of the room, down the hall, and into the
dining room.  There was the portrait of us; she sitting, me
standing behind her, her hand coming up to hold mine.  Mr.
Bradley Fletcher and...augh - Mrs. Fletcher?!?  [NOOOO - it's
not fair!] I screamed unheeded.  I now felt all the anguish of
being separated from my...my...wife?  And worse yet, I had the
panic and chaos of amnesia combined with this.

[Don't do this to me; either let me forget or let me remember!]
I sagged to my knees in front of the picture, phantom tears
streaming from my eyes.  I cried out in agony and struck out-

-and scared even myself when my fists pounded against the wall
with a resounding 'THUMP.'  Of course!  High emotion makes me
materialise...sort of.

My thoughts were broken by another scare for this old ghost -
our portrait slipped off its hook and came crashing down right
in front of me.  I yelped and staggered back, knocking over a
chair.

A gasp came from the doorway.  Sue was standing there - my
manifestation probably attracted her, and she was staring right
at the chair lying on its back.

"You're here, aren't you?"  I shrugged; agreeing wouldn't make
any difference since she couldn't hear me.  "Why this room?" she
asked as she made her way over to the fallen picture.

"Ohhhh, I see.  This was you and your...spouse?"  I gritted my
spectral teeth in frustration - she knew as much as I could
remember.  "Which one were you?  No matter, you were a beautiful
couple together - I'm sorry you can't be together now."

She hung the picture again, and I almost missed her last
whispered comment.  "And I hope David and I have as much love as
what your painter captured in this portrait."  I smiled at her,
and wished I could pat her shoulder in sympathy.

"Anyway, since I've gone and made everyone in this house feel so
sad, would you mind if I just took a quick bath and went to
bed?"  She smiled at the room in general, and walked out without
waiting for my assent - not that I could ever communicate it to
her properly.

I know it's not proper for a man to watch a strange woman while
she took a bath, but I didn't look on myself as a Peeping Tom so
much as a sentinel or guardian.

Sue is quite attractive in a meek way; her long chestnut hair is
thick and wavy, the thin glasses add something to her face.  The
face itself has a delightful heart shape, with full lips and
arresting green eyes; that's another thing the glasses help with
- they keep you from noticing her eyes too much and getting
stuck staring into them.  Her body is small and a little stocky,
with quite a full bust, though.  Her skin is pale, smooth and
unblemished, like rich cream.

I stayed in the doorway of the bathroom as she disrobed and
stepped into the tub.  I felt a momentary pang of jealousy as
she eased her body into the hot water within the porcelain tub
that *I* had searched for, bought and installed, but the pang
disappeared with the relaxed sigh Sue made as she sank into the
sudsy warmth.

I sighed in vicarious contentment as she just soaked in the tub
for a few moments.  Then a part of me I'd thought long dead and
buried noted her crinkled nipples.

As she commenced to bathe, I took a moment to examine myself.
Usually I...well, I didn't really think about my appearance - I
wasn't quite *clothed*, but certainly not naked.  But I was now;
part of me wanted to be exposed to scrutiny and was...aroused.
I blushed at my appearance, a smoky, translucent form standing
near the door of the bathroom, obviously excited about
something.

I rushed out of the bathroom in embarrassment, barely noting
that my shoulder moved the door as it passed through.  Once I
was out of sight, I calmed down and looked over the rest of
myself.  I was present - material; my whitish aura was due to
dust falling in the air and landing on my...vital spirit, I
guess.  I could support dust!  This had happened but once or
twice before in the years and years of my afterlife, and each
time had been a time of high emotion - apparently this was one
such time.  But the emotion was one I hardly expected to feel
again...

Suddenly, I found myself back in the dining room, standing in
front of our picture; me and...my wife.  I deduced that from the
gold band on her left hand that reached up to grasp mine.

I loved my wife, whoever she was.  Very much.  I had built this
house almost from scratch for her.  Because...because I
couldn't...something...I couldn't give her something...something
else she wanted.  What that was I couldn't quite recall - again
I had run up against a few missing pages in the history book of
my life.

She was beautiful, my wife.  Different from Sue, because those
had been different times; women back then were supposed to be
skinny and flat; boyish in figure.  My wife was certainly that -
or tried to appear such in the picture.

Sue is also beautiful, but different.  Where the woman of my
former life was slender, lithe (how could I tell that from a
still picture, I wondered), and almost coy, Sue is lush,
voluptuous, and meek.  She has a more substantial form
than...hers, but her demeanour is the most appealing thing about
her: she has this shy, vulnerable aspect that cries out to you
to protect her.  Even a phantom - a GHOST like myself wasn't
immune to this call.

I loved Sue - still do.  But not in the way I loved my wife; Ms.
Hoover was...was a friend, a little sister, a charge for me to
watch over.  I'd only known her for three days, but already I
liked her and thought of her as a cherished friend.  So why did
'little Bradley' decide to put in an appearance?

It was at this point that I heard Sue's moan; to go through the
thick walls and floor/ceiling of the house I'd built, it must
have been fairly loud at the source.  I'd been thinking
protectively of Sue, so the first thing to enter my disembodied
mind was 'She's sick or hurt!'

I flew up the stairs to her (and less metaphorically than most
people would) and stopped in the doorway, paralysed by
concern...and surprise.

Sue was under the covers in 'her bed,' and writhing.  [Is she
having a nightmare?  No, she's not asleep.  Maybe an allergic
reaction to the soap she used?  No.  Perhaps she's - no,
she's...oh.  OHHHHHhhhh!  Oh.  Um.]

Now, I was born in the Nineteenth century, and died in the
Roaring Twenties; you may wonder how I could recognise a
masturbating woman.  The fact is that for the past eighty years
I had been a somewhat captive audience to the sex lives of a
wide variety of people.  About thirty years ago, my house was
host to a gaggle of...'hippies' I think they called themselves?
Those kids were very open about pleasures of the flesh.
Needless to say, I learned a lot about what both men and women
did to make themselves happy in bed.

And Sue was working at her own gratification quite industriously
at that moment.  Her knees were raised, making twin pyramids of
the blankets.  One hand was a shifting mound between them, while
the other moved back and forth over her breasts, again hidden by
the sheets.

Soon she moved both hands between her legs and started panting:
"Yes...oh, yesss...yes - do me, Dave...please, fuck me...
mmmmm...yeah, like that...c'mon...fuck me...fuck me...fuck
me..."

But it wasn't quite working; her movements became somewhat
disjointed, when - from past experience - I knew they should
become even more rhythmic.  Her face became locked in a frown;
frustration and disappointment grew in that expression.  And she
lost grasp of the pleasure she was reaching for.

She stopped her manipulations with an angry gesture and started
crying.  Her voice was broken and miserable:  "Nooo...David -
why do you do this to me?  I love you so much - why are you away
so much of the time?  It's not FAIR!  I miss you!  Why can't you
be with me?"  Sue curled up on her side and started sobbing.

My heart - if I still had one - would have shattered at this
point; her statements were completely true: she did not deserve
this, she deserved a man who loved her as much as she loved
David, and would be there for her when she needed him.

David may even have loved her more than she did him, but he was
losing something so important to him, and he probably didn't
realise it; his work was getting between them.  He doubtless
quelled any doubts with the argument that he was doing all that
for his Sue...I rationalised my mistakes the same way.

That came as a surprise to me; I remembered the big problem...my
wife and I had had.  I threw myself into my work as an
architect; made an insane amount of money in a few years - even
in the great boom of the 1920's - and built this house as a
consolation prize to her.  But...not just to make up for my
absence...there was something else...something I couldn't quite
put my finger on...

Sue's sobs, easing somewhat to tired moans, drew me back to the
living world.  She was alone, and needed to be comforted.  I
really needed to do some serious comforting to make up for my
mistakes in life - maybe that was why I was a ghost?  A ghost
that was still running on high emotion and materialising as I
looked upon myself.

I made my way over to the bed, and noted with pleasure that I
had to pull the blankets up to slip under them.  I slid up
behind Sue, using my left hand to cradle her head while my right
hugged her to my for-now physical form.  I did something I
hadn't thought about in years, and hadn't been able to do in
decades - I took a breath.

I used the exhalation to make soft, comforting whispers in her
ear.  Her crying eased immediately.  She snuggled back into me,
then giggled "Heh; tingles."  I gulped - that was probably an
effect of my 'form' touching her body.  I hoped it wouldn't
disturb her; right now she needed fewer concerns, not more.

I patted, stroked and soothed her for some time, taking delight
in making someone else feel good.  Soon her breathing was deep
and even, her cheeks dry, and her body free of tension.  I
started to ease myself away to let Sue sleep, when her right
hand grasped mine, sinking in slightly.

"Don't go, Mr. Fuzzy - I'm not finished with you."

Ohshit; she was holding me in place!  I was partly pleased that
she could touch me and feel resistance, but I was just as
equally panicked.  She was keeping me from doing what I wanted!
For the past eighty years or so I had been a - sorry - free
spirit; uncontrolled by anyone except my own whims and desires;
I didn't even have physical needs to worry about!  And now I was
trapped.

Sue's hand pulled mine up to her naked breast.  "C'mon, dream
lover; I couldn't make myself come - you do it for me."  Dream -
she thought she was asleep and dreaming of a man coming to her;
hell, maybe she was.

"Please - David's so far away, and even though it won't be for
much longer, I need someone NOW.  Please?  It's my dream; do
this for me?"

How could I refuse?  Even though I don't HAVE heartstrings
anymore, she still had a firmer hold on them than on my hand.
My hand cupped her breast without any more urging from Sue's,
and its mate moved her hair away from her neck, allowing me to
kiss its nape tenderly.  "Ohhhhhh, thank you," she sighed.

I caressed and massaged that mound, felt (oh, god - I FELT!) the
nipple harden against my phantom palm.  My free hand eased under
her body and came up to hold her other breast.  Soon I had her
moaning in delight, and feeling something pressing into the
small of her back.

"Ooooh; are you hard for me?  I'm so flattered, lover.  Let me
feel how big it is."  Her hand came back and grasped my erect
cock.

I was amazed and bewildered by this turn of events; looking over
a fair number of school kids' and college students' shoulders
had given me a fair understanding of biology - normally a lot of
glands, muscle and blood was necessary for an erection; how was
I able to manage this?

"Oooooh yeah - that feels so good."  She was understating - it
felt FANTASTIC.  "I can't wait to feel this big cock inside me.
Put it in, lover."

I paused, probably due to a lack of those aforementioned glands;
did I want to do this?  My animalistic side sure did, as did all
of Sue.  But I almost thought of her as my little sister; would
I respect her - no, would I respect MYSELF in the morning?

"Please - I can't have David, but I just need someone for
tonight.  Please?"  She had a point - I was doing this more for
her than for me; also it was just a one-time thing to help her
wait for her beloved, not lure her away from him.

I hunched back and allowed Sue to guide my prick, sliding it
into the cleft of her buttocks.  Her leg raised up and allowed
my phallus to ease forward and wet itself on her moist pussy.

I was paralysed with the long-forgotten feelings of a woman in
my arms, and around me.  Sue had to physically make me do what
she wanted, but she was free to do so; I was barely still aware
of my own consciousness, let alone in control of my...spirit?

The hand she had behind her shifted and cupped my ass cheek,
pulling me toward her.  Her other hand slipped down her front
and guided my hardness into her hot, wet cleft.  I groaned
loudly, not even surprised at my returned voice.

"That's it, lover.  Enjoy my tight pussy.  Fuck me with that
big, hard cock of yours.  Make me come on your thick shaft."

Did I say that Sue was meek and shy?  She seemed that way
usually - even when she thought no one was around to see her.
Obviously she was a totally different person once her passions
were roused.

I began to move myself in and out of her, and my hands grasped
her tits roughly, making her sigh happily.  "Yessss, that's it -
take me hard, the way you want to and the way you know I want to
be taken.  Fuck me, lover.  Rape my pussy - make me yours!"

I did and - for at least for that moment in time - she was mine.
And I was hers.  She wanted this rough treatment, a submissive
fantasy of her, perhaps.  But since she thought this was all a
dream, why not indulge?

This passion, this mutual lust lasted for an immeasurable time
before Sue reached a crashing climax.  Her body jolted and
shivered, her cunt ran with moisture and clenched around my
ethereal prick.  Her voice called out her pleasure.  And I felt
it all - it was as if I was linked to her soul at that moment;
my body...er, form was filled with not just my spirit, but hers
as well - maybe people in orgasm experience an out-of-body
experience, and at that time Sue's spirit touched mine.  I still
don't know, but it felt GREAT.

But nothing good lasts forever...and soon enough Sue went limp,
panting as she spread out on the bed.  I noted grimly that I had
become almost completely non-corporeal again.  Still agog with
all the pleasure I had just experienced I extricated myself from
my recent partner and the bed, coming to stand at the doorway
looking back at her.

She was sweaty, flushed and tired.  But she was happy; her mouth
was curled into a satisfied smile.  Even if I could never again
do what I had just done, it was worth it for that look of
pleasure on her face.

The smile faded somewhat as she stretched out; patting at the
bed, she sat up and looked around in momentary concern.  Sue
shook herself, and then smiled at the recollection of what she
had experienced.  She bit a finger and giggled, saying "Wow,
what a dream," and then snuggled back into the bed, a happy
smile back on her face as she quickly passed into slumber.

fin de premier


<1st attachment end>


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