. ohhhhhh ... you found me and came around the bay!”“I hope that’s a good thing. Don’t be afraid, I’m not a stalker, but I thought maybe we ...hould meet...”She giggled. “I never thought we would, but yes! Uhh ... okay, would you like to come in?”“As you wish,” Ryan smiled.Amy was a bit nervous, but very excited. She knew they had both seen each other masturbating, and she knew that HE knew she had watched him having sex, so she had to ask boldly: “Uh ... are you here ... to fuck me?”“Good and. It was still early so I lie in bed trying to figure out what was happening. This may be beyond science, but I should still be able to apply some logic to it.It makes no sense that I can feel it if she touches me, but I can't feel it if I touch her. Maybe she has to will parts of herself to become solid?And why can I only see her just before and during an orgasm? That makes no sense at all. Is it somehow because she was killed while having sex? Did she die in the middle of an orgasm? I had no. “I’m a journalist” I said, “What about you?” “I’m an artist” she replied, suddenly taking the time to look at my cleavage. I could feel my pussy aching for her touch by now, and I was pretty sure that she felt the same way about me. She continued to stare at me then said, “So, do you want to come back to my place?” “I do” I said, finishing my drink off. “Good” she said, “When do you want to leave?” “Now” I said, standing up. She agreed and we went to her car, quickly. . Thanks."Again I hung up and waited. During this wait, I made sure to duck behind the dumpster as low and tight as I could scrunch against it.Then the ground shook. Hard. Debris flew over and around the dumpster. Some hit the dumpster. The blast wind blew it, and me, three feet.Then there was a moment of silence.I stuck my head up.There was nobody left standing.There was a big crater where the house was. Bits of the house were flung outward as though from a meteor strike. Those bits seemed to.