I was in the house of a goddess–this was the stuff wet dreams are made of!"Go into the living room and make yourself comfortable, Jimmy. I'll bring ...s a couple of sodas, then we can talk," she saidI settled down into a soft cushion on the couch, looking around the room and noticing the big fireplace. She had some pics on the mantle; a couple of pics of her as a child and one of her parents, but lucky for me, none of them contained what I could assume were husbands or children. She had decorated. My eyelids droop as a slight thrill courses through my body. As I drift back into the memories, to more sensual times, my finger starts to stroke in and out, and the wet sounds of my arousal echo though the silent, lonely bedroom. The sentinels watch from the closet saying nothing, observing all.As my fingers increase their tempo, memories of that last, fateful morning come flooding back, as if it were only yesterday. A morning that started out promising something new, stimulating invigorating. More

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