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What the actual fuck? Well, well, well, I thought, she really craved me! What would be next? I was sure to find out, but would it be good news or something else? I was a little torn over that, to say the least. Could she be trusted or was this some kind of trap? Had she really softened her views about me?As I entered the homeroom, Jessica rushed at me and closed the distance to kiss me as fiercely as she could. She made no attempt to hide what she did from anyone, even going as far as to take. ‘It couldn’t be. I’d been dead for years when this happened.’ ‘Then how…?’ I asked. ‘Like you, the main person in this story used to listen to my stories. I became part of her, as you become part of me, and I experienced her life as you have felt mine through involvement in my stories. How doesn’t really matter. You know that it happens. It did for her too. Now just listen while I tell you about the Valentine’s Day party of 1922. She was the daughter of the neighbouring squire. She was several. Ellen joined us on the bed and we all fell into a sound, deep sleep.” Whoa! By now I had a raging hard-on from listening to Cindy’s detailed description of what happened that night and I had difficulty keeping the car running straight and true down the highway. Cindy giggled and seeing my hardened condition, reached out to grasp my cock. “Oh! Just look what I’ve done to you! Well, I’m going to have to do something about that,” she chuckled. I almost let go of the wheel. “Honey, I’m. If you see anything suspicious say something. If not to the cops, then call me. I’ll get it handled without mentioning you.”After I made the mention I forgot all about it. On that morning after breakfast. I checked my phone messages. There was one from a man who did not leave a name.“You should have the cops check out a guy who drives a tricked out black pick up truck. He was cruising around main street last night. He said he wanted to pay us to do some yard work, but that truck had never been.
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