"Beneath this was another note, the start of a story I planned to writebased on one of the dreams I had had (this one I remembered havingwritten):"The...dead who had been peppered with bits of rose (the 'carcasses markedwith p?tales de la fleur') were to be brought back into town to be givenproper funerals, Mistress said. The others had, of course, been enemies.Who would come for them? I wondered. Would they even be collected? By thetime we arrived, the petals had dried and darkened, and the. Suddenly I can't take it anymore, I pull you close again and give you a probing kiss. In the midst of our kiss, I slip my hand between our bodies, and reach under your top. As I move my hand upward, I touch your nipple. It stiffens immediately and you catch your breath. I then slide my hand downward. It slides down the front of your skirt until it reaches the hem. I hook the hem with my fingers and start to lift it. You immediately try to stop me, but I won't let you. As I raise the hem, my. And that's how it continued. The players, more experienced than I’d expected, seemed to slam into a brick wall of misfortune. Changing from competent and confident gamblers to inept and apprehensive simpletons, their whole demeanour changed within minutes. Huge stakes were gambled on poorly executed hands and the piles of chips in front of them were rapidly depleted. It was baffling. For example, who in their right mind would try bluffing with a pair of twos. Or raise the stakes while holding a. Nervous but erotic excitement ran through my body. My nipples thickened under the fingertips. My belly quivered. My pussy sopped with moisture. Given my earlier preparation, and the circumstance in which I’d placed myself, I could feel my fanny had flared open, the flaps full and flowered, my clitoris hard and engorged. The caressing hands that slid along my slit, and they each took turns in touching me there, seared and jangled my nerve endings. I was hot, hot for them. I wanted more, much.