Free Past Present by Secret Narrative Page A

for full frontal lens. Pointing her round bottom forward, she reached back and inched the root into her anus, a little at a time.
    “It feels cool at the moment,” she commentated. “It’s fully in, ah, it’s warming,” she continued, reaching for the black dildo. “I won’t need the lube, I’m wet, I’m wet for you my darling, only for you, I shall plug my molten pussy, drenched with need, with the toy. Wishing, wishing, wishing that it was your hot, hard cock, plunging deep, deep inside me.”
    Slipping the dildo into her pussy, Eleanor switched it on, kneeling to give the forward lens full access to her round bottom, plugged with root, and the round, black base of the dildo which had all but disappeared.
    Watching the monitors, the room filled with her image, over and over again as she moved her ginger sodden fingers to her nub, knowing that she herself would be the instigator of her torture. The burning intensifying inside her would be met and matched by the fire at her clitoris.
    “The root burns, burning deep within me.” Breathless, Eleanor moved to recline, allowing the ginger to get to work, the dry heat so fierce that she felt as if she were floating, far, far away from the room. Her body, suspended above as she looked from the ceiling down onto the luxurious furnishings and her own shell, going through the motions for the cameras. Suddenly, her dreaming self, spies another couple, a pair from long ago, wearing clothing that she had seen during her research, and she realises she is fantasising as she brings herself to orgasm for her love, her only love….
    “My God, you look divine.” Matthew breathes in her ear, his fingers dally on her, stroking her silken inner thigh, seeking the treasure he craves.
    His cock hard underneath her bottom, they watch her recorded self masturbate a number of times, plugged with the dildo and ginger, listening to her recital.
    “You enjoyed it my love, I adore recording everything, that way every little detail is available to share, and we learn so much about what turns you on, and ultimately what excites you, makes you hot. I need to know everything about you, Eleanor, everything.”
    Gently pushing her off his lap, he opens his zipper. “Kneel and finish me, while I watch the rest of your glorious film.” He offers his erection to her lips and she opens as if she were a bird in the nest for feeding. Taking him deep into her throat, she sucks and works him. One hand a gentle fist on his shaft, helping him in and out, the fingers of her other, firmly on the nub at the core of her as she brings herself to climax just as his ejaculation completes her mission and she swallows with love.
    “Magnificent,” says Matthew. “Both of you.” He nods towards the screen and back at Eleanor, sitting on her haunches at his feet. “Dreamlike, you look as if you are possessed.”
    “Yes, I had the strangest experience in here that day. I shall do more research.”
    “Ghosts?” he laughs out loud.
    “Ghosts,” she agrees, certain that there are stories to unearth; she intends to unbury the dead.
    “Shall we go and have breakfast, and afterwards, will you come into town with me? I’d like to do a little shopping.”
    Eleanor, pussy a little slippery in the afterglow, her mind teeming, her body tingling, follows Matthew along the long gallery, walking as always alongside the window lined walls. Approaching the couple on the panelled side of the passage is the Site Manager, a sheaf of paper in his hand, brandished like a sword.
    “Ah, Mr Fletcher, can you spare a moment?” he calls as soon as they are in earshot.
    “Certainly, Eddie. Go on ahead, Eleanor, I’ll meet you in the morning room.”
    Eleanor suppresses a shiver of distaste, which involuntarily fizzes her senses, whenever Eddie is nearby, and hurries away.

Eleanor’s Journal: A Meeting
    Settled in the morning room, Eleanor took up her pen and recalling every detail of her dream, committed it to paper. If