She was the daughter of a certain Mr. Roberts a bank president and his wife Karen, who was a teacher at the local high school. John had known her si...ce she was knee high and had watched her grow up and blossom into a young woman. She was an only child, and her parents had her educated in a Catholic school so that she would be a proper lady. They tried to stuff her head with knowledge and made her read books, but her development into a young woman exceeded their expectations. She was beautiful. Your quarry must be nearby. I would like a large stone chimney made easily accessible from your quarry. It could be made with the flawed stones that crop up as you proceed with the work we already discussed. The inside of that chimney must be lined with clay and then fired. Other people on site at the quarry will then be required to cut wood and throw it into the top of the chimney along with all the small pieces of limestone. If this is built very close to a small hill, it will be easy for. There was no response. She smiled, kicking the flaking door open hard enough for some blue chips of paint to fall to the floor. She dipped her head in first and then silently nodded sideways, guiding me in.“What’s your name?” She questioned, staring at me for a moment as she locked the door.“…Lindsay.” I answered as if I had to think about it. “Aren’t you going to pee? You seem to be…” She cut me off.“Finger Fuck me, Lindsay.” She burst in a winded breath.In a bizarre flash without a second’s. It was dark, and we were inside, sitting in front of a roaring fireplace, no other lights in the room. A bottle of wine was next to us, and we were laughing and talking. The firelight danced in your eyes, and on your lips. Your lips invited me to kiss them, which I did, softly at first, and then stronger, with more passion.As with dreams, things moved at a different pace. The power of dreaming removed all of our clothing with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness that is involved... just.