2 comments/ 5445 views/ 0 favorites A Christmas Carol Revisited Ch. 02 By: Mortuis The Second of the Three Spirits I groaned and stretched. My head felt like a pumpkin, someone had emptied a bird cage in my mouth, and my eyes felt like they'd been lovingly sandpapered. Note to self: sex with ghosts has a definite downside. I padded to the bathroom to - well, hell, we all know why. Having done so, I turned to the mirror, wondering if I looked like I felt. I stopped. There was a message on the mirror, written in dark red lipstick. I'M WAITING FOR YOU. COME ON OUT. - "CP" I was pulled to the door as if magnetized. I walked out into a nightclub. I turned back to the bathroom. Same old bathroom. I turned to the nightclub. Still a nightclub. It was done up for Christmas, with Christmas garland and lights, a Christmas tree the size of a small city, and soft Christmas music drifted in on hidden speakers. There was just one light, focused on a small white circular table for two. There were just four things at the table: two wine glasses, an ice bucket containing a bottle of what I suspected to be champagne, and a woman, dark of hair and eye with a soft. even tan. She wore a deep green velvet halter dress with a deep neckline, and a slit ran up one side to the hipbone. It sparkled as if it had been sprinkled with green glitter. "C'mon in, Nick," the woman said. "Have a seat." She tipped her glass to me. "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present, and you're naked." I blinked. Damn. She was right. "I thought I felt a draft," I muttered as I sat. Christmas Present laughed - merrily. "A sense of humor. I like that. It makes my job that much easier." "And that would be...?" "Convincing you to pull your head out of your ass and live a little." I bristled. "Excuse me? I'm a professional boytoy - well, semi-pro, anyway - for a sex-crazed sorority. How much more living can I do without killing myself?" "Yeah?" The word was a challenge. "You had a 'date' with Marsha last week, didn't you?" "That's right. Marsha the Maneater. Marsha the incredibly hot nympho. You're not helping your case." "No? What were you thinking last week when you were fucking her?" "I... I don't know. You want me to remember what I was thinking nearly a week ago?" "Let's find out." She snapped her fingers and a TV I hadn't noticed before came to life. Marsha and I were on the screen, fucking like bunnies. Christmas Present made a "turning" motion with her thumb and finger, and suddenly I could hear what I'd been thinking! Oh my god - oh, fuck! Fuck, she's tight! Ogodogodogod... ohmigod, I'm so close... Fuck, what a pussy! I'm not gonna last much longer... ohhh, yessss... oh, take it, Sarah! SARAH!" Then I came like a volcano and the screen filled with snow. No, not static - real, honest-to-Kris-Kringle fucking snow! I stared at the screen aghast and the Spirit spoke. "Now do you know why I'm here?" "I really am trapped in the past.," I said slowly. "But what do I do now? Sarah's part of my past, so I forget her?" "No!" Her voice was so fierce that I shrank back. She continued, her voice calmer now. "No. Sarah is and always will be your first love, and you'll never forget her. A part of you will always love her, but she's gone and you have to move on. You know, this isn't just about you, Nick. You have friends who have been reaching out to you, wanting to help you - but you've shut them out completely. You're so bound up in your grief over losing Sarah that you can't se what's right in front of you. Like with Marsha... you were making love with her, but you were imagining Sarah. What if you'd actually called out her name for real instead of just in your mind? How do you think she would have felt? Does Marsha love you, or Mel, or Karen? No, not in the way that Sarah did. But they like you; they respect you; they trust you with their bodies and their reputations, and that's no small thing. But here - you want proof?" The picture on the TV changed. Now it was Melanie. She was sitting in a restaurant and talking to someone who was out of frame. "Nick? Awwww, he's a sweetie. I was the one who recruited him, you know. We went to high school together and he probably didn't say ten words to me in four years - he was just really, really shy. But he was in Drama in his Junior and Senior years, so I guess he was only shy when it came to, you know, asking girls out and stuff. I talked to Catherine - she was president of the Drama Club, you know - and she said he was a whole different person when he was working on a play - open and playful and funny - but as soon as the play was done, he'd close up like a clam again. He's opened up a lot since then. I think being with Sarah really brought him out of himself. You remember Sarah, right? Really short, with humongous boobs? Yeah, he fell for her in a big way. They were a lot alike - she was looking for someone to love her for herself and she didn't have a clue. She screwed a bunch of guys trying to find one to love her and of course they used her and threw her away like a Kleenex when they were done. And then she got pregnant - and Nick just lost it. He was already in love with her then, I think, but she'd always said there was no chemistry. That was sad, wasn't it? Here she is, desperately looking for love and here's this guy right in front of her who thinks the world of her and she doesn't think there's any chemistry. Well, they got together eventually and it was like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon for both of them. But something happened - Nick told me not to tell anyone, it really bothers him - and they broke up and he's been just like a zombie ever since. I think he likes being part of the auxiliaries, but he still wants someone to love him and he thinks Sarah was his only chance and he blew it, so he's depressed a lot. It's really sad, 'cause he's one of the nicest guys we have." The screen dissolved to snow again, and then Karen filled the screen. "Nick's a dumbass, but all guys are dumbasses - it's in their genes or something. Really, he's a nice guy - too nice for his own good. I didn't know Sarah, you understand, but Mel tells me he fell head over heels for her and it just about killed him when they broke up. I mean, really, sometimes I think he wants to die, you know? - and he's just making the best of his time while he works his way up to getting the nerve to kill himself. He's pretty good in bed, especially with his tongue" - her eyes glinted wickedly - "and I'm teaching him to be my sub and he's doing really well. Oh, and did I tell you about the Halloween party? No shit, he designed my costume; well, no, he didn't make it, but he used what I had and kind of put it all together for me. He had me do a vampire - a real person called Elizabeth Bathory who killed like 600 people a long time ago, and get this: she's supposed to have bathed in their blood. So anyway, he had Roxanne make me up this long black velvet skirt and then he had her slit it all the way up to my hip, and he took this black leather corset I had - I thought I was going to have to kill him, he fussed with it forever. But when he got it laced up just the way he wanted, I looked fuckin' spectacular! You know my boobs are okay, but they're not huge or anything" - here she leaned forward and pulled her neckline open so the unknown could see - "but they looked pretty damn big by the time he had me laced into that thing. And he had me carry one of my floggers, so everyone would know I was into torture, right? And Mel did my makeup - she's so good at that, and - damn, I wish I had a picture to show you, but they're all back at my apartment!" Here the unknown muttered something inaudible. "Well, sure, if you have the time, I know just where they are." Velvet lashes dipped and she looked up at the unknown from underneath them. "Could be I might show you more than pictures... if you're interested...." Again the screen went to snow, and then Marsha was there, that naughty-Tinkerbelle grin all over her face. "Nick is - let's see, how do I say this? - he's open for anything. I've done stuff with him that has scared off superstuds and he just laps it up." She laughed. "Yeah, he laps that pretty well, too. He doesn't freak out because there are other guys there - he may not be bi, but he's definitely NOT homophobic - and he has such passion; I mean it's like he just throws himself into everything. I hear that Karen is flogging him and fucking his ass with a strap-on, and I bet I could get him to try another guy if I wanted to. But he can also take control. My God, my first time with him, I didn't know what he was going to do next! He handcuffed me and fucked my mouth and spanked my ass and my pussy, and he pulled my hair and fucked my ass and came all over my face - it was like a porn flick! Of course, he was trying to get me to sign off on his membership back then, but he has my endorsement now and he hasn't changed a bit - he still fucks like there's no tomorrow. Of course, there was that deal with Sarah." The unknown muttered something. "Yeah, it left him pretty damaged. Me and Mel and Karen are trying to turn that around, but God, he really loved her, and turning that around isn't easy." Another unintelligible comment. "Well, see, most of our guys are like, 'Pussy whenever I want it? Cool! Where do I sign up?', but Nick - well, I mean, he's enough of a guy that that does play a part; but when he's with you, he's really trying to make you feel good, and not just because he's afraid of losing this dream job. It's like he really doesn't get anything out of it unless you do, and he tries to make it the best it can be for you." She laughed again. "Hey, you know how we are here - no one owns the auxiliaries. But you have to promise - if you do fuck him, you have to come back and tell me all about it!" The dark eyes met mine, serious and direct as a loaded gun. "So they're not the love of your life. Are you going to push away lesser love because you don't have a greater love? You're setting yourself up for a very lonely life if you do." She leaned back and took a sip from her glass. I followed suit, surprised to find it was spiced cider. She put down her glass, stood, extended her hand. "Come walk with me." I took her hand. followed her to where a solid wall of glass had replaced the cracked plaster wall of my apartment. "Look out there. What do you see?" I stared, bewildered, What was she getting at? There was nothing outside the window, nothing but - "Stars?" "Very good. How many do you suppose there are?" "I don't know... thousands, at least." She turned to look at me. "You're one of those stars, Nick. So is Sarah. So is everyone you know, and a lot of people you don't know." She gave me a look that somehow managed to convey both compassion and annoyance. "With all those stars out there, do you really believe you'll never love again?" She stepped closer, put her arms around me, drew my head down to her breast. "I know it hurts, Nick. Sarah's hurting, too. The only way either of you can stop the pain is to accept the love that others feel for you, however much or little it may be, and give them your love in return." She lifted my chin, turned my face up and touched her lips to mine. "Embrace the present, Nick. Make the most of every moment. Don't let life pass you by while you mourn the dead past." With that curious boneless movement known only to women, she unclasped the halter, let it fall around her waist. A sinuous movement of her hips and the dress slithered down them to lie in a green-sparkling puddle on the carpeted floor. Beneath it she wore only a garter belt and sheer stockings. She moved in, kissed me again, this time invading my mouth with her tongue. She took my hand then, led me to a round white bed surrounded by dozens of candles in glass votives. She sat, pulling me down beside her. She took my hands, placed them on her breasts and kissed me deeply. I caressed her breasts, tugging gently at her nipples. She purred, her tongue moving along the side of my throat, lapping... I moaned hoarsely, squeezing her firm tits. She bit down gently and I groaned, clutching her tightly. My hands slowly slid down the smooth skin of her back, then reversed course, my nails teasing lightly upward. She moaned and pushed her breasts hard against my chest. The feel of her nakedness next to mine was electric. My cock was pulsing, standing straight and hard against her flat, taut stomach. I kissed her hard... again... again. I bit her throat lightly and she shivered; I swear, it felt as though her body rippled. I bent forward, licked a breast all over, nibbling now and again. She bucked against me, her fingers in my hair, moaning. I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked sharply; her back arched and she whimpered. Her nails traced their way up my back and I ground myself into her with a groan. I licked the aureole of her breast, then bit her nipple without warning. She gave a little scream and her nails dug into my back. We kissed, with and without tongues, our hands roaming freely. She caressed my cock, stroking it from the base to the tip and back again. I scented the bouquet of her desire and I inched a hand up her smooth thigh. I could feel the heat of her as I came closer to her center. I touched her pussy - very lightly indeed - and only for the barest fraction of a second, but she writhed and almost pouted when I withdrew. Her lips were swollen and her clit was hard and erect. I licked a finger and slowly drew it over her clit and she literally hissed! - like a cat in heat. Her soft fingers closed convulsively around my shaft and I cried out and thrust upward into her hand. I was dizzy with the scent of her; I had to taste her, had to! I slid from the bed, fell to my knees between her thighs. I propped her legs up over my shoulders and took a long look at her pussy. Have you ever looked - really looked - at your lover's pussy? I promise you, it will repay your attention. There's amazing beauty there, and especially when she's horny; her folds swollen, puffy, bedecked with her natural juices, the inner lips glistening... her clit a sentinel, standing tall and erect at the gates of paradise. And the taste...! I tell you here and now, men who don't eat pussy have no clue what they're missing. Christmas Present's pussy looked untouched, almost virginal, but the glistening of her fully abducted lips told the true story. I took a deep breath, intoxicating myself with her scent - and then, very delicately, I began to lick her. I drew my tongue slowly along the sweet curve of her outer lips, eliciting a groan from my now all-too-human lover. I savored the taste where her lips were bedewed with the evidence of her passion, but only briefly; I wanted more. My tongue slid slowly, lovingly past her outer lips into he inner recesses, flicking restlessly as I went. Her fingers were fisted in the comforter, as if she'd float away without an anchor. My tongue probed deeper, ever deeper... teasing... licking.... She cried out and a fresh effusion of wetness bathed my mouth. I smiled happily and continued on. God, the taste of her! I was high as a kite on it! A finger gently probed her, gathering some of the hot slippery fluids I'd missed, caressing.... As I pulled back, I replaced my tongue with this finger and as I stroked my tongue against her clit, I began to finger-fuck her, slow and deep. I added a second finger, going as deep as I could, then gently swirled my fingers in her dripping pussy, caressing her tight slick walls. She purred, delirious with my mouth on her clit, my fingers deep in her cunt. It was a long, low, lazy sound, like a spoiled cat demanding more cream. I smiled as the image flashed briefly through my mind. I accelerated the pace of my licking, flicking away with almost the speed of a hummingbird's wings. She shouted and thrust her pussy hard against my face. I took her clit in my mouth, sucked - again! - again! - and she came hard, drenching my face. While she was still in the throes of her first real orgasm of the night, I slipped one of my slippery fingers into her ass and renewed my assault on her throbbing clit. To hell with subtlety; I ravened at her pussy, ass-fucking her as I ate her, and she screamed and screamed and screamed again as her orgasm roared through her. I gave her clit one last hot flick with my tongue, then I stood, lifted her hips and thrust deep. Her eyes snapped open and she screamed again, wrapping her legs around my waist, drawing me in tight and locking them behind my ass. We pounded into each other, slamming hard now. My cock was awash in a sea of scalding wetness and she clamped tight around my thick shaft, working her hips - squeezing tight, milking me, all but wringing me out. We hammered into each other like pile-drivers bent on mutual destruction. I found myself riding the edge, Christmas Present doing her damnedest to shove me over that edge. I fell, exploding over and over and over, her legs scissoring behind my back, her tight cunt pulling every drop of my juices from me. My voice cracked when I ran out of breath, but my hips jerked spasmodically, draining my balls.... I eased out of her, panting like I'd run a marathon, and fell bodily to the bed beside her. She was on me in an instant, kissing me - and sometime in the next minute or so, the lights went out. A Christmas Carol Revisited Ch. 03 To the editors: The story below contains italic and bold formatting - sometimes both together - which should be preserved within the completed story. I have highlighted the affected words, phrases and symbols in red to make them easier to find. A series of five centered asterisks seperates the story into "sections", and this division should also be preserved. There is also one "sentence" where five bolded and italicized periods are used to indicate silence. This is not an error. This story is part of a series,; therefore, all the episodes should remain in the same category - "Erotic Couplings". Thank you. A Christmas Carol Revisited - Stave Three The Last of the Three Spirits I awoke, shivering beneath the comforter. What the hell? Had the heat gone off? I could see my breath, for God's sake! I wrapped the comforter around myself in a vain attempt to retain some heat and moved to where the nightlight cast its firefly light on the thermostat. It said 72 - hardly a hothouse, but not numbingly cold, either. I thumped it carefully, but the needle remained obstinately pointed at 72. Still shivering, I groped my way to the laundry basket, pawing through to find the cleanest of my sweats. Absorbed in this task, I failed to see a piece of the darkness deliberately rise until I heard the sound of my name. "Nicholas." It was a sepulchral, cold, whisper-of-the-grave voice, and I whirled. It stood less than three feet away, robed and hooded. The garments that enveloped it were black, but the vacancy where the face should have been was blacker still, as if it possessed the power to absorb all light. The shrouded form seemed to radiate fear as a palpable emanation, and I could sense that this was the source of the terrible cold. Fortunately, I was pissed. "Only my mother calls me Nicholas." I said, my voice a fair approximation of the Spirit's own icy tones, but with an edge of anger behind it. The thing stood impassively. With no visible face, it didn't have a whole lot in the way of options. I tried another tack. "Look it's been a rough night. I've been put through an emotional wringer - twice - and screwed into the ground by two horny ghosts with unlimited stamina." . . . . . No response. Tough crowd. I sighed. "All right, let's get this over with." The apparition spoke. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come." That was it. We went back to the staring game. Guess who cracked first. "Let me guess. You're going to show me scenes from my future?" "That is so." "Then if you don't mind, let's get on with it." The Spirit lifted an arm. There was enough material in the sleeve of its robe to make a fair-sized dress. It also made a rather effective movie screen. Item: My graduation. I walked the last mile, received my diploma, went back to my seat. Fast-forward to the end of the ceremony. With a graduating class of over a thousand, not one person stopped to congratulate me or wish me well. Item: I boarded a bus to the town where I'd be beginning a new job. No one was there to see me off. Item: A succession of messy breakups, each more gut-wrenching than the last. The last girl tells me as she tearfully returns my ring, "I love you more than I can say, but I can't compete with a ghost." Item: A dingy apartment, lonely, unrelieved by companionship. The furnishings change like an old-fashioned nickolodeon show, becoming more expensive, more tailored to my own tastes - but the wealth is hollow and the luxuries provide no comfort. Item: A townhouse. A dark something dangles from a stair railing. We froze on that scene for a long minute. Item: A funeral with a decided lack of mourners - perhaps a dozen, all told. As the last four file out, a woman speaks. "He never seemed to have any interest in people. I used to try to get him to go out with the rest of the office, but he always refused." A man: "I don't think anyone knew him, not really knew him. He always seemed to be pushing people away, keeping them at a distance." A pause. "Well, perhaps he's found peace." "I hope so," another woman says. "I was angry with him for years, but I never would have wished this on him." The scarf she wore bound around her head slipped then, and before she could put it to rights, I caught a second's glimpse of her face. "Wherever you are, Nick, I hope you know that I forgave you long ago." Her voice cracks, just for a second. "Sleep in peace, my love...." Sarah! * * * * * Did I faint, or did my mind blank out what was too much to bear? I don't know. I only know that when I came to, the Spirit was kneeling by my side, its hood thrown back, no longer faceless. It was a woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes and a gentle smile. "Now you know." My face was wet. "She forgave me." "Yes, and she loved you and loves you. Your time with Sarah is done, Nick - that much I can tell you. Today she's very angry at you, but in years to come she will think of you fondly, and cherish the memories of all you shared." "Will she be happy again?." I asked in a broken voice. "In time, yes; and she will hope that you are happy, too." She turned her blue eyes on mine, locking my gaze. "Will you be happy, Nick? Will you choose to live your life, to fulfill your life? Or will you choose to let your mistake continue to poison your life, to die a little each day until the fate you foresaw is but a confirmation of what has already happened? The choice lies in your hands, and yours alone." Her eyes were compelling; I couldn't look away. My mind whirled like a child's top, reviewing all I'd seen, all I'd learned. Past, present, future flickered before my mind's eye, but one thought continued to reverberate through my mind, over and over. She forgave me; she still loves me. Wouldn't the future life I had seen mock that forgiveness, that love? We were done in this life, the Spirit had said. Didn't that imply other lives, other chances? Wouldn't death by my own hand drive me farther from another chance, not nearer? Looking into the Spirit's eyes, I felt that it must be so. And what of my lesser loves - Karen, Mel, Marsha, perhaps more to come? Were their affections of no account because they weren't, could never be Sarah? I began dimly to see how hurtful my detachment must have been to them, as if they were whores, not friends; yet they'd stuck with me because they believed I deserved a second chance. My sight was still misty, but my voice was firm when I told the Spirit, "I choose life." The words brought an immediate alteration in the Spirit's aspect. It seemed to shrink in upon itself, and its voice was now younger, vivacious, bubbly, full of the joy of living. "Cool." A genuine smile spread over the Spirit's face. "Let's party!" She dropped the black robes and the terrible cold vanished utterly. She was stark naked beneath, with big breasts, a soft rounded ass and a shaved pussy, She seemed to radiate heat as she stepped into my arms and pulled my face down for a fiercely passionate kiss. I dropped the comforter to pull her close - okay, make that three horny ghosts with unlimited stamina! - whereupon I tripped and fell on my ass. She giggled throatily and jumped on top of me. The giggle became a full-throated laugh, which made for an interesting jiggle factor; this ghost was more - errr, top-heavy - than the previous ghosts had been, and her laugh set off all sorts of interesting gyrations on her upper torso. It was making me a bit dizzy, so I grabbed one of her tits and squeezed while my lips found the nipple of the other and sucked. Her smile grew broader and she ground happily against me. She leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Guess what?," she said with a naughty grin. "What?" "I'm going to suck that hard cock until you're crazy to fuck me - and then I want you to fuck my round little ass." She squeezed my cock as she spoke, stroking from my balls to the head. I groaned as she licked down my chest... my stomach... until her lips were kissing my balls. She lay there grinning for a second - then her tongue snaked out and flicked against my asshole. I jerked as she licked her way from the perineum to my balls - slowing to lick and suck them thoroughly - then to the base of my rigid dick. She drew her tongue slowly, torturously up the underside, stroking my balls with her soft fingers. Her tongue swirled lazily around the head... she took it into her mouth and sucked gently for a moment... then she took me to the hilt, my cock fully engulfed in her wet mouth, the head sliding into her throat. She held me there, proud of her skills and sucked and swallowed me simultaneously, that naughty smile shining in her eyes. For my part, I was in heaven, or its earthly equivalent. It wasn't alone the exquisite sensations she teased from me, nor her undoubted skill, but also the enthusiasm and enjoyment she displayed in giving me pleasure. No duty suck here - she was driving me mad with pleasure because she liked it. You could tell from the look in her eyes that she was really getting into it. And it looked as if I would soon be getting into something, too, for she released me from her mouth with an audible pop, then rummaged through her discarded robe for something. Finding it, she tossed it to me with a grin. It was a tube of lube. "Lube me up, big boy!," she said. "I haven't been assfucked in two hundred years, and I want to make up for lost time!" With that, she turned her back to me and spread her cheeks wide apart. She yelped a little at the cold touch of the lube, but then remained still while I worked a finger into her tight little ass. When her grip had eased somewhat, I added more lube - and another finger. I spread the cold slippery stuff inside her tight ass, everywhere I could reach. When she began bucking her ass back to meet my fingers, I judged her to be ready. And I was correct. The instant my fingers slipped out of her, she turned to look over her shoulder at me. "Shove that hard dick into my pussy now. Get it all nice and wet, and then fuck my tight little ass!" I needed no further encouragement. I steadied myself with my hand on her hips, then thrust home, sheathing my cock deep within her clutching pussy. She groaned as I filled her, then began to move back and forth. "Oh yeah, (gasp) that's it. Fuck me hard, Nick! Stretch my pussy! (pant) Oh yeah, that dick feels good!" With my full length impaling her, she ground back into me. "Oh, fuck... you like that tight pussy, Nick? You like fucking that tight little hole?" I nodded, unable to speak. "Mmmmm, I love that thick hard cock... you've got me soooo fucking wet... I want you in my ass, baby. Grab my hips and shove that fat cock right up my ass... I want it all! Oh Nick, please... take my ass, lover... take it!" I pulled out of her wet clinging pussy and slammed deep into her ass with barely a pause in between. She screamed and fucked back into me hard. "Oh, yeah... ohhhh, fuck! Oh baby, I need this so bad... take my pretty ass, Nick... make it yours! Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh... oh yeah, that's it... fuck it hard... stretch it out, make it hurt! I want it, lover - I need that thick cock in my ass - deep in my ass... oh, fuck me, Nick! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my ass!" I threw caution to the winds and let her have everything I had, pounding into her hard, mercilessly. She took it all and begged for more, moaning, screaming, squealing - impaling her tight little ass on my dick over and over and over. "Oh Nick... oh baby, I'm gonna cum... cum with me, lover... Shoot your hot load right up my hot ass... I want it. I want to feel you fill my ass with your hot cum.... Fuck, I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum.... Cum with me, Nick... give it to me... fuck... let me have it... oooaaahhhhhh!" I don't know if it was her scream or the spasmodic clutch of her ass that set me off, but I came then, gushing my juices into her ass like a flash flood. She screamed and fucked back into me, again and again, taking everything I had to give, milking my dick with quick convulsive squeezes.... We disconnected after a minute and she threw herself into my arms, ground her hot body into mine and tried to suck my soul out through my mouth. As I drifted off, I seemed to hear: "Embrace the future, Nick. Embrace it with faith and hope and enthusiasm and love - and never look back." I slept. * * * * * I woke to the sun streaming in through the blinds. The bedclothes were a mess, twisted and tangled like discarded mummy wrappings. I just about broke my neck trying to get out of bed. The visits of the spirits were still vivid in my memory. Did it really happen, or was it just a series of dreams...? Did it really matter? Dreams or not, the things the Spirits had shown me had the force of truth. Standing alone in the first rays of Christmas Day, I spoke aloud. "Sarah," I said. "I love you. I will always love you. I'll never forget you, and I'll always cherish the time we had together. But our time is done, and we both have to move forward. I hope and pray with all my heart that your life will be as happy" - and my voice broke - "as the time we might have shared together. Please be happy, Sarah." The tears were running freely now. "I love you. Goodbye, my love." * * * * * An hour later, I stepped out of the shower and threw on a terrycloth robe, wrapped my hair in a towel and stepped into the bedroom. There were three of them this time, dressed in identical silvery-gray hooded robes, their heads bowed as if to hide their faces. Then - "Merry Christmas!" The robes were hurled aside and there they were - my lovely Sigma Eps girls! - dressed in "bikinis" made of inch-wide ribbon - gold for Melanie, deep green for Karen, deep red for Marsha. A single strip of ribbon bisected their breasts, just sufficient to conceal their nipples and not much else, and tied in the center with a large bow. A second strip encircled their waists, went down to loop around each thigh and came back up in back to be tied in another bow just above their asses. The effect was to frame rather than conceal their pussies, and for a moment I could only gawk. Then Karen spoke. "Well?," she purred. "Aren't you going to unwrap your presents?" And then - they pounced. Merry Christmas to all, And to all a good night!