He was OK. But he didn't touch me like you do, oh, higher," My hand was inside her thighs, my fingertips tickling her. I reached back up and undid the...last two buttons of her dress and put my hands on her breasts, now kept from me by her bra alone. I helped her step out of her dress, and I gently turned her around to face me. Her bra was covered with roses and her stockings were held in place with a garter belt the same soft color and her panties were thin and silky and barely covered her. She stopped and took a breath. The room still smelled of feminine musk. She closed her eyes and tried to think. She needed a plan. She needed an escape. She needed something. Bethany collapsed in the corner and sat down holding her head in her hands.Though the music had been left it had long since run out. All that there was to hear was a low buzz of white noise and a feminine whisper that she couldn’t quite realize was there. It did not whisper any plan to her. But sometimes a muse need not. More

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