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From: Ed Shafer <EMS@srkesspo.wpo.state.ks.us>
Subject: Imaginary Lover: RP <*> paranormal, solo, oral, 69, romantic
	love
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==========================================================
WARNING : The following story contains graphic descriptions
of sexual acts performed between consenting adults.  If you
are not at least 18 years of age then exit this file now.
If you do not like graphic sex, you probably wouldn't be 
viewing this story anyhow. This is a fantasy romp
and is fun for everyone. Enjoy.
You may reach the author at the above address.
==========================================================
<*> M/F, paranormal, solo, oral, 69, romantic love

     This seems to be a venue for experimental work and this
story is an experiment that addresses the dichotomy of human
love: the spiritual, poetic side of loving versus the demands of
physical sexual love. I have strived to write a mix of romantic
love-at-a-distance coupled with the graphic guttural details of
really hot sex. I'd appreciate constructive (notice the word
choice, please) criticism as to how well I've accomplished my
task. I am not at all sure that anyone can write sweaty, hot, wet
sex in a romantic setting. I'm fairly sure I have a ways to go to
accomplish it. I think of this story as "explicit romance" which
has been a stylistic goal of mine for the past couple of years.
This is the closest I've come to fulfillment, maybe because some
parts of this story are completely true.
     Please enjoy: The primary goal of all my stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Imaginary Lover

by Rock Hancock

     I woke up in the middle of the night, sometime around 2 AM.
This was not unusual, but the incredible erection I sported
certainly was. Unusual that is. I rarely get many nocturnal
hard-ons anymore. What was really interesting was the sensation
of impending orgasm - another thing becoming more and more
unusual with each passing year.

     I sleep nude next to my wife, though I don't know why I
bother except I've slept this way since I was 18. It certainly
doesn't do anything for my marital relations. It wasn't my wife
causing my gratifying feelings. She slept soundly and snored -
something that was most usual for her. The old lady rarely wants
sex. Even when we were young she would rather sleep than have
anything to do with me. It was not unusual for her to sleep
through some of my excellent solo trips, even home runs
like this one was turning out to be. She could sleep through an
atomic bomb blast, I thought.

     No, it was not my wife giving me a little midnight delight.
I was still half-asleep and somewhat hungover from too many beers
last night. Of course, it would be my very own right hand causing
these feelings of pleasure. But no! Both of my hands were lying
on my chest. Hmmm! I decided I best open my eyes and find out
what was going on with this erection that threatened to explode
any second.

     I felt a soft brushing across my balls and up my shaft. My
balls sucked up even tighter to the base of my cock and I thought
I would die from sheer delight. How was I doing all this without
the use of hands? "Look Ma. No hands," came to mind as I opened
my eyes and held my hands in front of my face.

     I'm not a Goliath, but then again, I'm no penile Lilliputian
either. I'm "just right" as my girl friend says. As I said, my
wife doesn't care one way or the other. I looked down between my
spread hands and clearly saw my cock dancing around in the
moonlight coming through the window. The way my cock moved
wasalmost as if someone was giving me a blowjob. And what a
greatblowjob it was. Already, my toes curled with the fabulous
sensations pulsing through my body.

     Gritting my teeth, I let go with a most intense orgasm. For
years, I had practiced "quiet masturbation", but never had I
needed such control as this time. My cum shot high in the air
and landed with hot plopping sounds on my belly. I couldn't
completely stifle a groan of ecstasy. My wife didn't stir as I
slowly descended, both physically and mentally, from the rapture
of post-orgasmic pleasure.

     Finally, I started breathing again and made my way to the
bathroom. Cleaning up, I resolved never to have a nightcap of
Scotch after an evening of beer. I knew I had been in a daze of
some kind and imagined that someone was blowing me. Undoubtedly I
had been dreaming of Leigh, my girlfriend. After all, we engage
in phone sex or computer sex quite often - the 90's high-tech
form of mutual masturbation. It is the best we can do with 1000
miles separating us. Surely it was a dream, I reasoned, and I had
simply jacked off. I dismissed the fact of finding my hands
clasped together on my chest and not around my penis. Surely,
that was some dream weaving going on in my foggy mind before I
was fully awake.

     The next morning, I drove to my job and did my duty for the
almighty corporate dragon. My fellow worker-cogs must have
thought I was smiling at them as I recalled the previous night.
They returned my grins and made social noises. I earned my pay
and made it through to quitting time. Having escaped another day
without being scarfed up by the awesome beast of workaholic
America, I headed home and continued thinking about the great
blowjob.

     Err... make that hand job. Oh I know, it had to be Momma T
and her four daughters. I kept telling myself this, but I
couldn't quite convince myself that it was indeed my own loyal
thumb family. Not this time.

     I put the car on cruise and headed out for the hour's drive
on the mostly empty road back to the town where I lived, or
should I say "existed?" I "live" in the heart of my girlfriend as
she lives in mine. Before long I started daydreaming about her
and the wonderful life we'd have once we get together.

     This daydreaming doesn't always produce an erection. No,
seriously, it doesn't always. Leigh and I have much more in
common than mere sex: writing, laughter, living, getting together
again - for keeps this time - as well as loving. Even the loving
is more than sex. We talk marriage and concern for our children
and how the divorces will effect them. You know, all aspects of
love. No, daydreaming of her doesn't always lead to an erection.

   Yet today, I found myself with a travel hard-on, and it was
a most demanding erection at that. I thanked the inventor of
cruise control as I wiggled around in the seat and used one hand
to unzip. My cock nearly flew out of its prison and stood like a
flagpole in front of the steering wheel.

     Once again, the strange incredible sensation of a warm mouth
enveloped me. My feelings started rising immediately as the
blowjob continued. No wait! Blowjob? There was nobody in the car
except me and I had both hands on the wheel.

     "What the hell is going on?" I thought. The sensations were
intense and already I could feel a stirring around in my balls. I
knew I would cum very quickly and very hard. That would e most
unusual: two orgasms in less than 24 hours. God, maybe I was a
teen-ager again. At least, my cock acted like it was a teen. I
could see clear juice dripping down my shaft, but it wasn't just
from the tip of my organ. It seemed as if saliva ran down my love
tube, but how?

     A semi-truck roared past me and the driver honked his horn.
I had crossed over the line and he nearly side-swiped me. I had
drifted off into the fog of impending climax and was about to get
killed if I wasn't careful. As I looked down at my raging
erection, there did seem to be a bit of fog bundled between the
wheel and my stomach. Perhaps, the AC was acting up and causing a
mist to form. I, also, noted that the sensations of climax
relaxed just a little as if I was being teased and prolonged.

     The feelings only slowed for a minute and then started
picking up the pace again. Another truck squealed past me and I
remembered the need for caution. Somehow, I was having dangerous
sex with myself. I mean totally on my own without even the aid of
Rosie Palm and her ladies. I decided to pull over before my
climax sent me into the path of some demon diesel and to my
certain death.

     As I hit the shoulder and brought the car to a stop, I felt
the warmth release from my cock. I breathed slowly as the fog
seemed to grow and wrap itself around me. I swear I felt a
woman's arms around my neck. Suddenly the seat jerked all the way
back, the steering wheel shot to its full upright position, and I
felt warmth again descend upon my aching cock. This time, the
warmth was the unmistakable clutching, pulsating wet, and oh so
heavenly, warmth of a tight pussy inching down my shaft.

     I was being fucked in the front seat of my car alongside
route I-70 by an invisible woman. Most unusual circumstances for
me. My last coherent thought was, "if this car's rocking, don't
come knocking" I only hoped that the cops abided by that
sentiment. If not, then what would they see? Some horny guy
shooting his wad without using his hands? I suppose that is
against the law; so many sexual things are in this land of the
repressed and home of the self-righteous. Let them give me a
ticket, I decided. What the hell. Right now, I didn't much care
as I was getting the most incredible ride of my life.

     I wrapped my arms around where I thought my imaginary
lover's back should be and felt resistance, as if someone was
sitting on me. It wasn't quite as substantial as a real woman,
but definitely something there: soft, warm, yielding. The mist
had all the qualities of a woman, only ghostly invisible.

     I surrendered myself to the pleasure rippling through my
body. Closing my eyes made it easier; I could feel her breast as
she slipped a nipple into my mouth. Her nipple was hard, perky
and utterly delightful. She fed me first one tit and then the
other. I could even feel her heartbeat against my face as I
snuggled between her ample breasts and continued nursing. With my
eyes closed, it felt so incredibly real. I didn't care what
people passing by saw - although it would have been better to
spring for the tinted windows when I bought the car, I thought.
I'm sure I looked like someone suffering from some neurological
disease as I rocked and bucked in the seat of my car.

     My imaginary, or at least invisible, lover sped up her
fucking motions and I found myself rocking back and forth with
her exquisite pussy driving my cock into ecstasy. "Imaginary
Lover... They never disagree... Satisfaction guaranteed."
Snatches of lyrics from the Atlanta Rhythm Section song flashed
through my dazed mind as her arms tightened around my neck and
her lips found mine. We kissed passionately, our tongues
exploring every part of the other's mouth. I could swear I had
felt these lips before, had tasted this tongue and explored
this mouth. It felt somehow so familiar to me.

     I didn't have much time to think about her mouth as she
broke off the kiss and I could swear I heard moans of pleasure
turning into cries of orgasm. My own impending eruption followed
quickly and I screamed in ecstasy as my cum exploded from my
organ. It was one of those tidal wave orgasms, the kind you
remember forever, the kind that turns your body inside out and
sends your mind reeling into outer space. It left me slumped over
the steering wheel, sweating and panting, dazed and very
confused. I shook from the aftermath of fantastic sex as well as
delayed shock over my improbable situation.

     I had just had sex with something. I say "something."
Asuccubus? A ghost? A sprite? The invisible woman? My
imagination? Perhaps, I had lost my mind. Perhaps, I was even now
lying in some mental ward, strapped down.

     Maybe I was undergoing shock therapy, but I didn't really
think so. I was certain that I was sitting on the shoulder of the
Interstate and I was totally alone in my car. I vividly recalled
how my lover felt very female and also very comfortable to me.
She was familiar in the way only lovers share - the way of
knowing exactly what your partner wants without asking - that
kind of familiar.

     Finally, I opened my eyes and expected to see a cummy mess
all over my pants, the car seat, and maybe even the roof
considering the force of my ejaculation. But no! There was
nothing at all, not one drop of sperm anywhere. My limp cock
rested between my legs, ringed by my open zipper. Even it showed
only the slightest trace of my explosion - some fluid glistening
on the head, which I wiped off with my finger. I smelled my
finger and the distinctive aroma of "pussy in heat" registered in
my sated brain. My cock twitched and tried gallantly to grow
hard. A woman's pheromones is the most powerful of aphrodisiacs,
but it was much too soon for another arousal. It was quite clear
I had indeed been fucked by a very hot and turned-on woman.

     There seemed to be nothing left to do, except drive to my
house. As I drove, I kept thinking of what had happened, or what
was happening to me. Had I lost my mind? I knew I didn't have far
to go to lose what little mind I had. Does anyone in this crazy
world? If I was insane, then at least, I enjoyed a good form of
insanity. "Give me more. Give me more, for sure," I sang.

     I still couldn't make myself truly believe I had crossed the
line into mental illness. For one thing, it nagged me that I
sensed a familiarity with my Imaginary Lover. I decided to call
her that as it seemed better to think of this as my over-heated
imagination instead of a ghost or some such. I had experience
with the creativity of the mind, but none with the paranormal.

* * *

     Life at my house is the epitome of the mundane. My marriage
is over in spirit at least and soon to be in fact as well. Life
at home is more like last week's paper: old news, worn-out, ready
for recycling.

     As much as I hate the world of work, I can hardly wait to
return to my job. Ever known anyone who longed for Mondays?
That's me. At least, at work I can E-mail Leigh or talk with her
on the phone when we have phone cards. We even have phone sex at
a pay phone that can be used while sitting in the car. Not
everything about work is bad.

     That night, my dreams were about my girl and what I would
say to her. Surely, I had to tell her about these strange
activities, but would she believe me? Being so far away had a
tendency to make us both a bit jealous. We have so little now and
there is always the worry we might lose even that. We are extra
careful with each other because of the possibility of
misunderstanding. I just couldn't figure out how she would take
this. Maybe she would think my imaginary lover wasn't so unreal,
but instead was a very real woman. I didn't think she would, but
I couldn't be sure. After all, 1000 miles is a long way apart;
the mind plays tricks and love is a strange emotion. At any rate,
I had to think of some way to tell her. She would be back from
visiting her sister in Virginia on Thursday, the day after
tomorrow.

     Then again, I'd be stupid to tell her. This had to be some
sort of elaborate hallucination, some flashback to the 60s, the
days of purple rain and wacky tabaccy. I would only make her
frantic with fear and dread that I had indeed gone over the edge.
I decided it best to keep mum - at least until I understood what
was happening.

* * *

     Thursday and again at work. No more visits from my Imaginary
Lover since the drive home on Tuesday. I finished my lunch at my
desk and waited for Leigh to call. Her E-mail said she was back
and would call when John left for work. John was Leigh's husband
and a dumb ass for sure in my book. This man had no idea of the
remarkable woman who shared his bed and his life. His loss was
surely my gain. Only concern for our children kept the two of us
apart; kept us with spouses who had no clue whatsoever of how
miserable we were, nor would they care if they did know. The only
good news for us: they had no idea that we had found each other.

     Leigh and I had met on the Internet nearly two years ago and
spent one glorious weekend in each other's arms around
Valentine's Day. I still recall with vivid clarity our first
kiss, her touch and her eyes, the smell of her skin - perfumed
with White Shoulders, her smooth calves and tiny feet. I cling to
these sensations and remember them in my finger tips and my lips.
My body still feels the press of her flesh against mine when we
slept like spoons. My heart beat in time with hers when we made
love. I knew every nuance of motion and she knew every response.

     We both were a bit nervous at the airport. We knew each
other from phone calls and E-mails, but seeing each other was
different. She asked when we arrived at her car, "What do you
want to do now?" I didn't think; I immediately answered, "I want
to kiss you." We did and it is as clear in my mind as that very
moment in the parking lot. Her lips were so soft and so warm. I
can taste them now.

     Ring! Ring!

     We always waited for the second ring. One ring was our
signal to call back. I picked up the phone. It was Leigh and
immediately the sun shone brightly, birds chirped in the trees.
It was spring and all was well with the world. My heart pounded
and my voice quavered just as it did on our very first call. You
know how it is when you're in love. At least, I hope you do. It
was my girl and I was happy.

     We cooed and purred at each other, making love over the
phone with our words and our hearts. She has a voice like deep
cello music, rich as dark chocolate, a voice that promises fun,
affection and happiness. Every day she sings to me a couple bars
from some Oldie song. Today, she chose "You are my Special
Angel." Her voice was as pure as rose petal dew, an elixir to my
fevered brain.

     Eventually, we got around to planning our next phone sex
date. Saturday was the day and it would be a "double naked" as
both our spouses would be gone on work-related trips while we
would be at home. Nude in bed sure beats sitting in the car
and watching for curious spoilsports. We decided on the best time
and I resolved to get a brand new phone card; 120 minutes would
have to be enough. We both laughed at that, but we knew there
would never be enough time for all the loving we wanted to do
with each other.

     "Baby," she said, "I've been working on a special treat for
us. You're going to love it Saturday."

     "Yeah, will it be fun?" I laughed. Silly question;
everything we did was fun.

     "Oh yeah. I've been practicing the technique for a week now
and it'll send you into orbit. Trust me."

     "Tell me what it is," I implored. "Some new vibe to make you
cum harder?" I suggested.

     "Better than a vibe, but you'll have to wait. Promise me you
won't cum before our date."

     "Of course not. I always wait so it will be extra intense."

     "You have one minute remaining." A voice interrupted us.

     "Shit. I swear someday I'm going to kill the One Minute
Lady," Leigh vowed as she did every time we heard her.

     I sighed and whispered, "I love you forever."

     "I love you until the 12th of Never," she quoted from a
song. We continued saying "love yous" until the line went dead.

     I dried the tear that always forms in my eye when I hang up
the phone with her. It was power nap time at my job - the quiet
time just after lunch. The place was as silent as an empty
church, except for somebody's radio playing a song several cubes
away. I couldn't make out the words, but the tune seemed to be
"Special Angel," or maybe I just imagined that as I drifted off
for a snooze.

     Of course, you don't really fall into a deep sleep sitting
back in your office chair. It's more like dozing off, a cat nap.
I was drifting in and out of slumber, when I detected that
musky odor, that aroma that makes my cock come to attention,
the incredibly delicious smell of hot pussy. Also, I felt a furry
warmth on my mouth and a tickling of my nose. I stuck my tongue
out just a little bit and was gratified to feel the throbbing bud
of a hard clitoris. I was muff diving right here in the office,
sitting in my chair and totally alone.

     My Imaginary Lover was back and she was sitting on my face.
Being a gentleman, I licked away for all I was worth. I could
actually taste her as well as smell her and feel her. It seemed
that with each event, she became more real to my senses. Once
again, I knew this pussy, this aroma, this taste. It was so
intimate to me. I should know who this is, I thought. My chair
was reclined and my head faced slightly upward and I decided to
risk a peek.

     When I opened my eyes, I could see a pair of firm thighs on
each side of my face and a smooth belly above a patch of blond
hair. The vision was wavering, misty, not substantial, but more
defined than in the car. My mouth was filled with the sweet
nectar from her pleasure garden. It was extremely apparent from
her rocking on my face and the moans I clearly heard that my
lover was about to orgasm. I worked my tongue hard on her clit,
sucking it into my mouth and lapping away at it. I knew she would
cum any second.

     She did. And then again. A third time she climaxed on the
heels of the second. I continued eating her through at least four
or five intense waves. I seemed to know exactly where to apply
pressure with my tongue and when to slack off, just like I did
with Leigh.

     Finally, the warm wet feelings left my face and I felt the
cool air of the AC blow across my hungry mouth. I wished I knew
whose fabulous pussy I had consumed. It sure seemed inexplicably
familiar to me. I had this crazy idea that somehow it was my baby
- Leigh. After all, I remembered everything about her so
completely and in such vibrant detail from our weekend in
Baltimore two years ago.

     Of course it couldn't be Leigh; that was impossible. She was
1000 miles away. She might as well be on the moon. Yet it seemed
like her: the smell, the taste, the sounds, even the touch.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, wondering if the other worker ants were
gathered around my chair, or if they had already called the men
in white coats to come and take me away to the funny farm. Nobody
was around. Nothing seemed disturbed. All was quiet and still.

     I wanted to make a quick trip to the restroom to relieve my
aching cock, but I remembered my promise to Leigh and tried to
forget my urges. I kept telling myself that it would be ever so
much better on Saturday and I'd have two climaxes, maybe even
three. But I knew this Imaginary Lover of mine was going to make
things very hard for me - pun intended.

     I managed to force myself to focus on work and I got through
the rest of the day, but I couldn't help grinning like the canary
who ate the cat. Indeed, I had eaten a most fabulous and
delicious pussy.

* * *

     Saturday and the canary is most hungry again. I prepared for
our date, taking off my clothes while Leigh did the same. We told
each other what we were removing as we did it. It all added to
the excitement. I cradled the cordless phone on my shoulder,
while I turned on the tape player. We had made tapes of some of
our favorite songs and always played them during our dates.

     "Unchained Melody" played softly from both our tape players.
A scented candle lit the darkened bedroom. Now we were ready.

     "Baby have some oil?" I asked, "and your vibe?" I sounded
out of breath with excitement.

     "Oh yeah, but I hope we won't need them. Just go with me on
this, sweetheart. If my idea works we won't need toys. Now are
those jockey shorts off?"

     "I'm slipping them down now. Ooohhh. I just popped out. I'm
hot and I'm so hard for you baby."

     "Oh good. Now start jacking it slowly and relax. Close your
eyes. Just play with that brown smooth velvet cock of mine," she
whispered. Her voice was deep and throaty and she always called
it "her cock" and that made me feel so very good.

     I lay down on the waterbed and knew she was doing the same.
We both played and warmed up for a few minutes. I let her hear
the slurping sounds my hand made on my oiled cock and she let me
listen to her vibe as it played across her nipples and then her
clit. I drifted off on the haze of pleasant sensations rippling
through my body.

     I heard Leigh whisper, "I want to suck it so bad. I want you
to fill my mouth and feel you throb in my throat." Then it seemed
that it wasn't my hand anymore stroking my cock. It felt like my
baby's mouth. The feeling rapidly grew intense and I surrendered
to it.

     I could almost imagine her pussy over my face, legs
straddling each side of my head. I lifted my tongue up to her
slit and tasted the sweet juices flowing freely. I quickly found
her clit and started to lave it. She quivered and jumped as
sensations cascaded in waves through her hot body.

     We moaned and whimpered and I reached up to clasp her ass
cheeks, so small that one of my hands could cup the entire
half-globe. I squeezed her cheeks and pulled her down on my
mouth, the better to drive my tongue deeper into her honey pot.

     She eased up on sucking my rock-hard throbbing cock to enjoy
the sensations I brought to her. She lasted for a few minutes,
but I knew from her cries that orgasm was close. We both wanted
to prolong it and rise to even greater heights. Fiercely, she
started a deep-throating sucking that almost made me cum. It
definitely made me give her a break as I let a cry of pleasure.

     We went back and forth like this, driving each other higher
and higher, only resting just before the crisis. I rolled over on
top of her and she sucked me hard from underneath. I felt her
vibe playing against my ass and even slipping inside. I worked a
finger inside her pussy and drove her G-spot mercilessly to
undreamed of heights.

     All good things must cum to pass and we surely did. Almost
simultaneously we climaxed in each other's mouths. I gushed a
gallon. At least it felt like that much and Leigh came over and
over again as I brought her down slowly from the mountain peak.

     We lay exhausted on the bed. Somehow, she had rolled back on
top of me. I felt her now turn around and plant a searing soul
kiss on my lips, driving her sperm-coated tongue deep into my
mouth. We tongued each other until the taste of cum was gone and
only her sweet breath filled my nostrils.

     Leigh has eyes the color of sherry wine poured into fine
crystal. I opened my eyes and stared into hers. They sparkled
with her love for me. I saw her sparkling eyes? In my bedroom? A
thousand miles from where they should have been?

     "Baby? Baby, you are here?" I questioned. I could see her
quite clearly as well as feel her.

     "Yes, it is my surprise. I have been studying with this old
Indian guru about how to astral project," she whispered and
kissed me. "I've been practicing and I think I've almost made it
here a couple of times this past week."

     "Oh you have. Take my word, you have," I confirmed.

     After several dozen kisses with pieces of the story told in
between, I gathered that somehow she had learned how to project
her body, or teleport it, or something. Neither of us totally
understood the theory, but it seemed that our love provided the
bridge and that sexual energy provided the power for her to cross
the gulf between us and actually BE here in my bed.

     Okay, it didn't make sense to me, but it sounded like a
great idea, especially since the kisses and her constant
caressing was definitely creating more sexual energy. Hey go with
the flow, right? The flow was strong as Leigh straddled me and
slid my newly resurrected cock up into her tight super-heated
pussy.

      We tabled the discussion in favor of some hot fucking.
Leigh rode me like a horse and let me play with her fabulous tits
while she worked my cock to new heights of pleasure. This being
my second round, I knew I could last for a long time, especially
with her on top. It was heaven for me as well as for her.

     She climbed the mountain again and soon was on the edge of
climax. I considered letting her cum in this position, but then
decided to roll her over.

     With me on top, she pulled her knees up and crossed her legs
over my ass. She whispered, "I love you" in between French kisses
while I concentrated on fucking her slowly and moving from side
to side. This motion kept me from losing it and at the same time
carried Leigh higher to the very peak of her mountain. We both
were close and gaining the summit rapidly.

     Suddenly she threw her feet straight up and screamed into my
face as her orgasm ripped through her. Leigh came in a flood of
hot juices, waves of climax, and cries of sheer ecstasy.

     I felt her pussy clutch my pounding cock even more tightly.
The added sensation carried me over the edge and I exploded deep
inside her pulsating love tunnel. My screams joined hers.

     We rocked back and forth for several long minutes as the
last shreds of pleasure ebbed away and our hearts slowed to
normal.

     She started crying and kissed my face all over.

     I asked, "what's the matter, baby?" But as I opened my
eyes, I could see. She was fading as the sexual energy died away.

     Leigh spoke in an echoing whisper, "I'll be back, soon. I'm
getting better at this each time."

     I rolled over, pulling her on top of me. "No. Don't go. I
can do it again. Stay hot, baby. We can do it again." I knew it
wasn't going to work, time was running out, our energy low - as
it should be after sensational sex. This was the time for
caressing and whispering words in the afterglow, not the time for
more action.

     As if to emphasize my thoughts, I heard the phone from the
edge of the bed say, "You have one minute remaining." I gripped
my arms tightly around her and plastered my mouth against hers,
but Leigh became increasingly less real, wispy and more
ghost-like with each passing second.

     "I love you, Rocky, forever," she whispered.

     "Until the 12th of Never," I answered.

     "Someday we'll never have to part. I love you." Her final
words were like the softest summer breeze.

     I lay there for a long time after the phone line went quiet,
until the last faint trace of her White Shoulders perfume faded
into memory.

THE END


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