I wait until he crawls on the bed, and lay down next to me. Then I roll over on top of him, catching him off guard. His eyes twinkle as I straddle his...legs, and begin to kiss him. I start at his neck and slowly work my way down. I replace the gentle kisses with soft licks when I reach his stomach. He gasps when I swirl my tongue around his shaft, before moving down his legs.My breasts rub against his skin, as I slither downward. The warmth of them envelops his entire body. I look up at him, and. But of the story itself there was nothing at all.Of course, a play with a reputation like that gave birth to plenty of pretenders. Pulp magazines, basement publishing houses, and of course the Internet teemed with dozens of scripts claiming to be the one true version of "The King in Yellow," all of them obvious frauds from amateur playwrights trying to trade on its reputation. Most were almost unreadable. But poor imitators though they were, I thought that these fakes might give me something to. "Anytime Sandy or any girl wants to kiss me like that, I'll stand and take it."Pearl linked her arm in mine. "Come on. Buy me a cup of coffee. We need to talk."She's confused, aroused and... yes, fearful. What's she afraid of?"Talk about what?" I asked."You and Sandy."I stopped walking, and turned her to face me. That touch - both of my hands on each or her shoulders - amplified my connection, and for the first time, I felt more than a sender's emotions and sensations. What I felt was a. I beat him. Badly. But I didn't kill him - I just ensured that he'd never walk again. I might have done more, but once he was down I ran to Susan. The police arrived at the scene at about that time as well.There was no way I could save her - her throat had been cut and she was already dead. Of course, the police were no help and I ended up in a cell - after a quick trip to the hospital - because one of them grabbed me and punched me in the mouth. He thought that I'd killed Susan. I broke his.