One hand slides down between her thighs, seeking out her clit, rubbing up and down her slit. She felt embarrassed, but that also seemed to have its ow... form of turn-on. She knew it was pleasing him for her to do this, that he found her attractive and was turned on by her, so she began to see it in a different light. Her fingers became coated in her own juices, and she began breathing deeply. Her clit hardened under her fingers and her hips began moving on their own. She imagined her going down. ”“You look like Jacob Marley.”“I don’t know who that is,” Abbie said. “Never mind.” Phoebe sat up and yawned. The candle on the table didn‘t have anything underneath it, but she supposed dream wax couldn’t possibly hurt the wood. Abbie was holding out her hand, and instead of Jacob Marley Phoebe thought of the Ghost of Christmas Past, helping Scrooge fly away. Rather than take the proffered hand, she walked to the window herself. That fog horn noise was still going on. “What the hell is. More

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