It took me three minutes to find Marty’s grave. It wasn’t hard at all, Jennifer’s directions were explicit enough, and as I said before, I have ... good sense of direction. Besides, for some reason I can’t begin to comprehend, Martina Elizabeth Reynaud, even in death, has been tugging at me like a magnet attracts an iron filing. She has been doing this since I first saw her in the chorus practice room at our high school nearly 20 years ago, and I suppose she always will. Perhaps that explains why. Anything. Finally, my fingers banged against bars. A cage? Before I could decide, a flash of light highlighted a bloody hand reaching for me. Reacting, I shoved my way to lead, dragging him this time. When the flashing light disappeared from sight, he stopped us, securing me against him. Fear morphed into arousal as I felt his hard cock denting my tummy through my miniskirt. I needed to touch him! After locating his zipper, I freed his cock. Oh, how the mind played tricks when left fumbling in. More

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