From far away she heard pounding, like a metal drum, accompanied by the moans of the dead. The noises increased in tempo, then faded to occasional ban...s. Hours later, or was it only minutes? She staggered to her feet. They gathered outside the cinder block wall that enclosed the tiny backyard of the townhouse. One banged listlessly on the metal gate, while another vainly struggled to climb the wall. Another half dozen milled around, apparently uninterested in the house itself but drawn by the. As you read the story, your thighs squeeze together, wringing moisture from the soaking sponge that is your cunt. Your hand strays to your breasts, not for pleasure, but just to make sure your nipples aren't advertising your secret hidden thoughts like two beacons flashing from your chest.You continue to read. Your thighs begin their now familiar rhythmic motion: Squeeze, open, close- squeeze, open, close. Your thoughts are interrupted by the aggravating squeaking of a chair. Blushing, you. More

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