Her arm was right on top of my hand outside of her shirt, and it was pressing my hand to her chest.I did what I could after a few minutes of holding h...r. I opened my grip, letting my fingers gently touch her skin. My fingers were softly touching her other breast, and after a moment I felt the weight of her arm lift. She was encouraging me. She wanted me to touch her, at that moment I knew it for sure! While she held her arm up a bit for me, I felt around in earnest. I explored her chest with my. I never did that normally, but tonight I just wanted to be around her. She was pulling out cans and putting them up in the shelf. I came up behind her to help, grabbing one.She shifted and her rump pressed into my crotch. She froze. I throbbed. I could feel the impression of her buttocks against my dick. She shifted her hips, sliding her ass across me as she picked up another can and slowly put it away. This energy seemed to flow between us.My heart screamed in my chest. I stood there confused. "DOWN!" he cried, grabbing Helen and throwing her to the ground. Both machines had swung completely around, their buckets passing inches above their backs as they lay prostrate on the damp soil."What?" Helen mumbled, trying to lift herself from the dirt. "What's happening?" She looked up. The digging bucket of one of the machines had swung back and was poised above the two of them, about to strike downward at them."Underneath!" she shouted above the noise. "It's going for us." She scrambled for. "Instead of healthy, red-blooded American boyssss, they become sssickcreatures like the blushing fashion models you only moments ago sawprancing past your table. Like the gracious ballet-dancers you saw, andthe ssssoprano ssssinger you heard."Creaturessss... like me."The pale figure in the spotlight made a mocking curtsey, softlychuckling."But don't feel guilty," it went on. "We were never asked to become whatwe are; we never had a choice, not at birth, not here. But we alsoneverhad an.