Many people don’t know this, but Thomas Alva Edison, the light bulb guy, also claimed to have been working on, what can only be colloquially called, a ghost telephone. Historians all seem to agree that no evidence that he did more than talk about the idea exist. There are no plans, no prototype has even been found, and no patent filed.
Samantha pulled her emerald cloak a little tighter around herself. She could hear the faint sound of the drums and see the orange glow of a fire in the trees. She made her way down the dark path, the drums beginning to beat in her blood. The autumn air held a chill that invigorated her. She followed the path and the crisp scent of wood fire toward the meeting.
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London lay alone in bed. She sipped her pina colada and waited. London didn’t like waiting, and she was already nervous about tonight. The drink, heavy on the rum, helped steady her frayed nerves.
I watched your last video almost breathless.
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Stephanie fumbled her keys into the lock, and tripping in the dark she made her way into her apartment. She was still a little tipsy from her night out. She dropped her jacket on the floor, letting her shirt follow in short order. A trail of clothes laid in her wake as she made her way to her bedroom.
Lady Charlotte’s maid entered the sitting room carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Lady Charlotte immediately laid aside her novel to receive the flowers.
“Flowers, my lady,” the maid said handing her the bouquet. There was no card, but the flowers themselves carried the message. She ran her fingers over the sprigs of rosemary, the herb’s scent crisp and almost astringent scent clinging to her fingers. So, this will be an assignation that I won’t forget. She mused, considering the herb’s meaning .
The heat broke with sunset. The air was still damp, but finally cool. The temperature kept dropping as it got darker.
I had the house to myself, and I was getting ready for bed. I stayed in shower letting the cool water pull the heat from my skin. I’d been sleeping nude, so I dried off but didn’t bother with clothes. I tied my hair up in a messy knot, wanting its damp weight off my back.
As I was locking up, the breeze flowing through the screen door was irresistible. The yard was dark, and I could see the mist rolling in. There wasn’t even much of a moon.
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Read the entire story here: [Part 1 Working Late] [Part 2 All Wrapped up in Work] [Part 3: What Vicki Did at the Ritual] [Part 4: Victoria Finds Her Man… Two of Them]
Vicki lay back on the pile of cushions shrugging out of the robe so it lay underneath her like a sheet.
Bishara laid beside her, his kohl darkened eyes and shaved head reminded her of Djet, but there was something jarring about seeing the makeup and the ancient affectation on a modern man.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
She nodded, not entirely sure what she needed to be ready for. At this point, she was certain she wanted this magician and not only for his magic.
Julia left her aesthetician’s office, her skin warm and hypersensitive. She’d been going for years, suffering the brief flood of pain for the smooth, hairless mons and labia she had come to love. The drive home was the hardest part, as Julia wiggled and shifted in her car, unable to find relief. Her skin tingled, and she wanted nothing more than strip out of her clothes to remove any pressure from her over-stimulated skin.
Once home, Julia strips as she walks through the door. Tossing her thin summer dress aside, her panties were stowed in her purse, as she had learned years ago that after a waxing she couldn’t abide the feeling of undergarments. The air currents against her newly bared skin made her shudder.
She ran the shower, wanting to wash away any remaining tidbits of wax. The water cooled her over-heated skin, and Julia gently soaped her mons. Her aesthetician was good, and Julia didn’t actually expect to find any wax remaining behind. But she slipped her soapy fingers between her smooth, hairless lips.
Julia had told a lover once that she loved being hair-free because it increased her range of feeling. There was no hair to lessen the tactile feel of a finger or tongue anywhere on her. Like now, as she slowly ran her fingers over and inside her labia, there was nothing between her skin and her fingers. She cupped her hand over mons, letting her finger caress her clit, rubbing it slowly while her palm slid over her newly denuded flesh.
She knew that she should let her skin rest, allow it time to lose some of its pinkness, some of its sensitivity. But the slick skin was already so wet from the cruel waxing ministrations, and she was already in the shower. She continued her slow movements, the water running down her body adding a teasing element. Julia leaned back against the shower wall, the cool tile doing nothing to lessen her heat.
She reached up and removed the shower head and spent a moment getting the water to be the perfect temperature. Julia turned the settings on the device, the rainfall pattern becoming a single jet of water. She ran the jet over her nipples, feeling the water pound on her skin. She gave a small moan, and lowered the showerhead. With her freehand, she spread open her lips, and positioned the spray of water lower.
She moved the water slowly down her chest and over her belly. The water ran down between her spread lips, teasing her with its soft touch. The runoff was never going to be enough to get her off, but she was enjoying the buildup. She inched the water lower, tilting her hips to find the perfect angle. Finally the rough spray of water reaches her tender skin, the skin so newly abused by the waxing. Julia gasps the stinging of the water a wonderfully welcome sensation.
She luxuriates in the feeling, slowly moving the water, always avoiding her clit for the time being. Julia’s frustration builds and keeping herself just on the edge slowly becomes overwhelming. She gives in directing the spray of water directly on her clit and a moan is torn from her. She cums quickly, her pussy clenching, and the shower head slipping from her hand.
When the water sprays past her, pounding the ceiling, she pulls herself together and grabs for the shower head. She replaces it in its holder. She steps from the shower already thinking about how the towel will feel on her sore skin.