Her lithe form, haloed by the diaphanous gown, pressing against its flimsy satin, begged to be set free. It was in that gown that she appeared to me i... the cellar. Merely by concentrating on her image, by envisioning her leaving her bed, walking down the main staircase into the drawing room, passing through it to the back of the kitchen, opening the door to the wine cellar, and walking down its rotting staircase –merely by envisioning it!– I was able to make her do it. What else would I be able. He leads her by the hand to the sofa. He sits down, and she goes to her knees in front of him. He takes her hands in his own and kisses them. They look into each other's eyes for a few minutes, treasuring this moment of anticipation. Then, without a word, he gently lifts her hands upwards. That is the signal that she must now stand up, and lie across his lap.She lowers herself over his thighs. She nestles in, finding the most comfortable position. She relaxes, relishing the feel of his body. More

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