Free Sacrificing Virgins by John Everson Page B

“Sure. Since I’m headed to Cincinnati tomorrow, that will give you some easy leftovers for tomorrow.”
    When Natalie woke the next morning, she felt guilty. As if she’d cheated on her husband, who stood just a few feet across the room, straightening his tie in the mirror. He’d tried to put the moves on her after they got home from dinner, but she’d begged off, claiming a stomachache. In reality, she had a crotch-ache, after pounding a foot-long piece of rock inside her for a good chunk of the afternoon. Even now she could feel the stinging ache of “overuse” and didn’t look forward to her next trip to the toilet.
    All that said…
    Something inside her ached for Crisofer to leave the house so that she could open the nightstand drawer again.
    Natalie closed her eyes and wished the thought away. She was a whore!
    No. She hadn’t slept with anyone.
    But…
    â€œGoodbye, sweetheart,” Crisofer said, bending down to kiss her. He looked so good in his sharp white shirt and black-and-silver tie. “I’ll be back on Wednesday.”
    â€œGood luck,” she smiled, and then snuggled into the pillow. “I’ll be here when you get back!” she promised.
    â€œBetter be,” he said, and in a flash he and his suitcase had fled from the room.
    Natalie waited until she heard the back door close before she reached into the nightstand. Just barely waited.
    Her hand trembled as it darted from beneath the sheets to grab the handle of the drawer. She wrenched it out and seconds later, the cool head of the stone artifact was slipping along the silken skin of her inner thigh.
    Moments later, eyes closed and hands busy, Natalie felt her skin suddenly chill. It was a weird feeling, with the blood surging through her groin and her hips arching up to meet the bank of her hands. Her body was more than warm; she was on fire as she shoved the ancient sex toy inside her and yet…her skin suddenly goose bumped as the air shifted around her. The breeze felt wonderful against her fevered skin, and yet…strange. Her bedroom was a closed space. The window wasn’t open, the door to the rest of the house…mostly shut. There could be no breeze here…
    Natalie opened her eyes to the dim morning light and saw the strangest thing. A man, moving in the air just above her body, writhing with the same motions as her own. His face was sallow and thin, his mustache dark against the gray shadows of dawn. But his eyes glimmered with their own light in the depths of his face. When he opened his mouth to silently moan, Natalie felt her own climax near, and she moaned with him, giving voice to his orgasm. She knew how strange this was, and yet, she couldn’t stop, not now.
    And when she did stop, at last, sated and hot and damp…she collapsed to the pillow and looked up at her strangely indistinct lover and saw…
    That he was not there.
    Oddly enough, the moment that he was gone was the moment when the fear first iced her veins.
    In a span of just a few seconds, she had felt her climax coming and opened her eyes to see a man above her, and she had briefly reveled in the intensity and the forbidden. And now…he was gone, and Natalie began to shiver uncontrollably. For a second, she wondered if he had ever been there at all.
    She threw the phallus in the drawer and hurried to the shower, anxious to wash away the strange moment with hot water and soap. Lots of soap.
    It took a pot of coffee before Natalie felt up to admitting to herself that she was scared. Like…arms shivering as you walk when it was not even remotely cold out kind of scared. Luckily the sun was bright and the day warm…and after a bit, she donned a pair of loose shorts and a light T-shirt and went out to the yard to putter around a bit. She pulled weeds along the edge of the house and considered trimming the evergreens in front before wandering back to the long patch of garden area