Kneeling across her thighs, I massaged her neck and back, traced down the bumps of her spine to the base of her cleavage, down, down to that entrance ... worshipped, the tunnel into her interior darkness. I separated her cheeks and saw the glisten of lubrication. She had already prepared herself for me there. I lowered myself and made contact.She seemed tighter somehow, and I felt pressure through the wall separating her lower intestine from the vagina. The mystery dildo was compressing her. There had been no nightmare, at least none that she was aware of, only the violent shaking of her arms and legs. There was no sweaty fever. In fact, her skin was dry and an ache pulsed in her muscles. She gasped as another spasm jerked through her then cast her eyes about. Her room was swathed in a darkness that was broken only by the moonlight that splashed in through the window and across her bed. She made a conscious effort to calm herself and breathe deeply. A last tremor ran through her. More

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