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Fantasy/shiver
                                    Q. Caulfield
                                       Shiver
              	Anna Stoltz's eyes flew open.  It didn't help -- she only saw darkness.
              She panicked, but not daring to move, flailed around in her mind for any
              other sensations to latch on to.  Her heart hammered against her chest. 
               Her temples throbbed as if maggots were about to hatch from under the
               skin.  She couldn't tell how long it took for the intense pressures to
                 subside, but when they did, the darkness was still there.  Using a
             meditation technique taught by Miss Geist, Anna's mind searched for other
             points of focus among the physical world.  A trickle of sweat started from
             somewhere behind her ear and cooled off as it traveled to the nape of her
             neck.  Her breath warmed her knees, which were tucked closely against her
             chest by her arms.  She felt the warmth from curling into herself, but she
              shuddered as the damp material of her silk slip cooled and clung to her
              back.  She was lying on her side on her bed and now was beginning to see
              the dark contours of her room.  She stretched out one timid hand for the
              sheets she must have kicked off.  She grabbed them and dragged them back
                                      around her huddled form.
                       	It had been the same dream again.  She wondered if it
             were some side effect from her training.  After all, her occult powers had
                   begun to manifest themselves about a year ago, and her actual
             apprenticeship only began much more recently.  Her powers were continually
                      developing in ways she was just learning to understand.
                 	Rewarming herself under the blankets, she released her knees and
             stretched her legs halfway down.  She moved her left hand toward her feet.
               Starting from her ankle, she gingerly ran her fingertips up along the
              inside of her leg.  She felt the flawed smoothness of her skin until her
              fingers pushed past the hem of her slip to touch her inner thigh.  From
               there she felt a slick, moist sheen.  She paused there, not wanting to
             continue.  Taking a small breath, she finally brought her fingers to rest
              upon her cotton briefs.  She cried out and curled up again into a tight
              ball of flesh, trapping her hand between her thighs.  She could feel her
                soaked briefs and excess fluid ooze over her hand.  Even through the
              material, her distended mound couldn't help quiver from the pressure of
                her fingers.  In turn, her inner muscles contracted and dilated with
               almost painful intensity.  She had clamped her thighs together in the
             vain hope of damming the tide of convulsions, but now she couldn't remove
                                             her hand.
                   	"Oh God," she whispered frantically, "let it s-stop.  Stop. 
                                       Please, let it stop."
                	She bit her tongue, trying to stifle her cries.  She felt her teeth
           cut then sink into her tongue and caught the ensuing acrid taste of rust from
                  the blood that bubbled forth.  This allowed her to overcome the
               frenzy of sensations that seemed to erupt from her womb long enough to
                                        pull her hand free.
                         	She tried to extract the images that already were
              draining from her memory.  A dream did this?  What was it about?  There
              was a mist, and it was humid, and there was breathing.  She couldn't see
              clearly, but the breathing became louder, and she couldn't see clearly. 
              Then she plunged into... something, something deep and humid and dark. 
              Darker than not seeing.  From that point she always woke up.  And after
             going through the usual waking ordeal, she felt guilty somehow, ashamed. 
                 Perhaps that's why she hadn't told Miss Geist about it, yet.  She
            viciously wiped away tears with the hard palm of her unsoiled hand and lay 
                               there awake for the rest of the night.
                  	When the first streams of sunlight came through the gaps in the
             Venetian blinds, Anna finally gathered enough strength to sit up in bed.

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             Leaning on her right arm, she lifted her other hand up to eye-level.  She
               rubbed her thumb across across her fingers, trying to remove the dry,
               sticky feeling that they had acquired over night.  She felt as if the
              stickiness had already spread into every pore of her skin to smother her
              like tar.  With a grimace she got off the bed and took tiny steps toward
             the adjoining bathroom, as if slight movements would minimize any unwanted
                                            sensations.
                  	She looked at the mirror above the sink.  She first noticed the
              darkened patch that soiled the lower front of her otherwise shiny, green
              slip.  She turned on the faucet with her right hand and let her left one
               hover away from any possible contact with her body.  She pumped white,
               almost translucent, liquid soap from a dispenser bottle into her left
                palm.  She shuddered as she foamed it up with her fingers.  She then
                  brought both hands under the running water and rubbed her hands
              vigorously.  After she was finished, she pulled the stopper and let the
                           water fill half-way up before turning it off.
                 	She took a step back and looked at the mirror again.  She pushed
             the thin shoulder strap off her left shoulder, then the one off her right.
               With her arms crossed, the straps hung limply the sides of her arms and
                the slip held in place.  She stared at her eyes.  They seemed to be
              slightly red around her irises, which appeared black from this distance
              rather than their normal dark brown.  It wasn't pleasant looking at them
               against the background of her face.  Everything was normal except the
             eyes.  The nearly milk-white complexion, the pert, slightly upturned nose,
                the small mouth, the chin that tapered to a slender curve, all these
              seemed to scream in outrage against the intrusive eyes.  She closed them
            and felt the rushed caress of silk against her body as the slip fell around
                                            her ankles.
                  	Without opening her eyes, she carefully pinched the band of her
              briefs at her hips and pulled them down.  Quickly she stepped out of the
               puddle of clothes at her feet and opened her eyes.  She shuddered and
                                       looked down to see her
           nipples grew taut and the surrounding areolas become speckled with tiny goose
                                              bumps. 
             These swollen pink buds also seemed intrusive against the gentle swell of
             her pale breasts.  But it was her mound that drew the greatest attention,
             the greatest outrage.  It was shaven, so she saw the bright pinkness that
             gave her labia a very raw appearance.  At that moment, it seemed the most
                alien thing; it waited there between her slender, creamy-white legs.
                   	She became aware of how long her gaze had lingered there and
             snapped her eyes back to the mirror.  She smoothed her disheveled hair by
              running handfuls of straight black strands over her ears and letting the
             ends fall to the small of her back.  She saw the reflection of her clothes
             on the floor and bent down to pick them up.  Carefully avoiding any soiled
               spots, she picked up her briefs and her slip and dropped them into the
                                       sink to let them soak.
                 	Anna turned to her left and opened the shower stall.  She turned
             on the water and waited till the temperature was as hot as she could stand
             it.  She entered the stall and closed the door.  She was determined not to
                leave until the water dissolved every vestige of dry stickiness that
                                    seemed to pervade her body.
                        Shiver (Part II) coming to a story board near you...to More Fantasy Sex Stories and Sexual Fantasies
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
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