He wasn't real at the beginning. He was a dream but then his image hardened and she saw him leering at her, and also the knife gleaming and she became...stiff with fear and scared and vulnerable, and she had no idea what she should do.She remembered to breathe. It came slowly. It hurt. She was breathing. Inhaling. Aching. "Have you got an aspirin?" the man asked her, his knife moving lasciviously across her soft naked skin, following the curve of her shoulder down across her breast and moving. Staring straight at them with a frightened eagerness. presenting an image of Amadine golden hair, hand buried between two slender thighs, hips rising only to fall and rise higher still. Breasts firmly pointed at the sun, head twisted to gaze back, eyes wide at her coalescing audience, golden hair falling into her mouth, lips parted, a quiver then opened up to exhale a quiet moan. Shapes moving in the trees, becoming feminine sprites ripping through light woven gowns, masculine forms flashing an. More

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