2 comments/ 10210 views/ 0 favorites The Passing By: sabb I stood in the dark in the doorway listening to the quiet sound of his sobbing. He said there was no pain, and I believed him. No physical pain, but what is pain. Who knows what hurts most, he was only 36. In a few days he would have faded and gone. I would go in soon and hold him, stroke away the tears, kiss them away, hold him to me as I had done now for several nights. He was in our bed but he slept so much I left him alone there when he wasn't awake. I remembered how he had wept the last time I had fucked him, how I had made sure I would last for him, give him what he wanted most. Give it for as long as I could. How he had begged to be fucked each day, fucked hard, fucked long, my cock inside him stroking the damaged flesh. Stroking it for as long as I could. I'd never meant to love him, and I wished he'd never come to me. But once he had I would not have let him go. Not even now, not ever. He would be gone soon and I would weep then for him, for me, for his gift to me, for his short life, for his beauty. God he had been beautiful. Until a month ago it had still been there. There was nothing wrong with him I could sometimes think. Only days ago I had sucked his cock and made him ejaculate for the last time. We'd both been surprised when he went hard for me. He'd stroked my hair, moaned "I love you, you know that, say you know that." "I know that, I know that," I'd whispered up to him. I sucked him gently, taking that cock, still so young and thick, and taking it into me. Into my mouth, loving it, running my fingers gently, my tongue gently, up the veins on it, running them over its hardness, caressing it, making him moan, wanting him to moan and forget. Forget everything. Forget he existed. Forget for a moment. I wanted him to pass then, to forget to live then, leave the world with that moan on his lips, his flesh in my mouth. God, I wanted him to go easily. When do you start to love someone? How do you start? A look. A word. One day they turn their head to look at you and your heart bursts. You want them to look at you forever like that. Just like that. Their eyes sparkle, their lips are full and you want to touch them. You want your body to be part of them, to enter them, to take them, possess them, sink into them. God how I had come to love him. That last long fuck, that endless night of me moving inside him. As he wept. In the morning when we left it was dark still, the drive to the hospital, the cold, the knowledge that it was his last time to be filled, to be possessed. I'd never cared so much as him, hardly cared at all. But for him it was part of how he defined himself, being fucked, it was his joy. To lie under me, under any man he wanted to have. Have that man, many men, plow him, ride him, take him. fill him. He needed to be filled. He had fought. We had fought together. Which was why he'd come to me. Why he'd become my lover, why in the end, now, perhaps he did love me. A man he never would have loved otherwise, never have moved to. Never have wept to. After that long night I'd waited at the hospital all day, waited to be there when he opened his eyes, when it was done. Be there when he ceased to be the man he had defined himself as. Be there when he could never be fucked again. Knowing that not only had he lost that, but that the battle was being lost, the war we'd waged together for twelve years was not going to be won. I had not been sure if he would do this in the end, if he would buy time by losing himself. A year and a half. Only another year and a half. How long that sounds in the beginning, how short it is as the days run out. One summer, one autumn, half a year gone suddenly, unstoppably, then a winter and a spring. One year gone. God, nothing more than one last summer and an autumn and it was ending. God I'd have to live alone through other autumns. Afterwards he'd fucked me, I felt him move inside me, he wanted his cock inside me every night, in the end we argued. He wept. I gave him what he wanted. He I supposed taking the feeling of his cock in my arse, of hard flesh in soft, of raw power in yielding strength. Taking that and turning it about into the feeling of cock in arse, his arse, my cock. His non existant arse now, sewn up, gone. His rectum eaten away as his body was being finally consumed, now, as he lay on our bed weeping softly. I went in to him. I lay beside him, cupped my body about his shell. I stroked his hair, I kissed his eyes, I kissed his mouth, dry, thin, transparent. His weeping tears draining him, leaving him dried out. He could have had a drip but had said no. It was time for him, he wanted to go, forget. He had lost what he had been, he was no longer a man, no longer a Greek god, a beauty made for sex and fucking. Perhaps he wept because he was already dead. Perhaps he was only a shadow, I held a shadow in my arms. I loved a shadow. God I had wanted him to win that war we'd fought so long, wanted him to live. The Passion of a Virgin Because of our lifestyles now it is difficult to find a mate you'd really like to get more acquainted with. I guess that's what all the chat rooms are all about and no doubt they fill a need for so many lonely people searching for happiness. Fortunately I have never been in that position, and just as it seemed I was lacking of a real close and intimate partner someone seemed to turn up out of the blue, like there was a guardian angel out there looking after my wants and let's be frank ,my carnal needs. I know possibly that's a guy's way of looking at it - and with a girl there is always more emotion attached and perhaps romance. Well I am a bit of a romantic myself but I do think having intercourse with a woman you really fancy helps if you have emotional besides sexual feelings for her. Such was the case with Louise, at first a shy sort of girl who badly needed coming out and for me that was an important part of the attraction, this girl was a virgin sure enough and, I discovered, untouched by male hand, what more could I wish for, it was like treading on newly fallen snow, the thrill and knowledge of knowing you are the first top tread. I met Louise in the library, she was reading philosophy at Exeter university, it was just something about her, those rimmed spectacles, those brown eyes looking up at me over the rims when I asked if she would excuse me, she blocking the way with having her chair too far out . She was full of apologies not realising she was being so selfish she said and I simply replied that it was no problem at all and, being very cheeky continued by saying; if she'd like to meet me later I would like that very much. "But you don't know me." She said looking aghast. "We can soon put that right!" I returned seeing her blush - that's when I realised this girl was very shy which so much added to my wanting to know her more. She just sat there, not saying anything but looking very coy - I could tell she was interested, the smile said it all. "7 o'clock this evening then, outside the library yeah?" She stuttered for a while and then said okay, that her name was Louise and what was mine? Great I was on a promise. My name is Alex. She looked away and back into her book she was reading but as I departed I glanced back and saw that she was watching me, she blushed again and smiled and already In was all of a tiz-waz just imagining what it would be like to be with her. It was fine, I took her for a meal and we just talked like you do. Se was an only child and lived with her divorced mum, she'd never had a boy friend she confesses because she was blatantly shy, I said you don't have to worry about that with me because I was the same I lied. It helped her talk to me and I felt a certain warmth of something that had been hidden deep in her psyche and needed to come out pretty darned quickly. What is it they say about the shy ones. I guess that is what it is, they have so much to give that has been trapped for so very long and there was me about to be the very happy guy to release all that passion and sheer lust inside this gorgeous wonderful girl. Just the gentle kiss seemed to spur it all. I simply placed my index finger below the centre of her chin and gently lifted her head so that her lips could softly touch mine. It was sheer magic how she responded, at first just the lip touching, I didn't want to push her in any way, wanted just to enjoy the moment of probably the first real kiss she had ever experienced with a guy. We stood there momentarily lips still touching, but then I felt a slight trembling there, her lips moving against mine in a very delightful way, then I felt her hand brush behind my neck as here kiss grew into one much more needy and passionate. In fact I realised then that passion withheld was having its play when the kiss developed into a very deep and searching one, hearing her quietly moan. I was so taken back by this shy girl fully expecting it just to be the kiss that night and hopefully more to follow tomorrow.. Bu her passion was overwhelming, like she had been doing it like that all her life, her tongue finding mine. I felt a surge below and knew I was aroused. My idea was to take this girl who had to be a virgin gentle and with care, so as not to spoil it all with a quick 'hello-goodbye- scenario. I just could not help myself though with the intense fire of her passion. I suggested we go back to my place, that it wasn't far and there was absolutely no hesitation. This was what she had apparently been waiting for, and I discovered later how she had seen me several times and longed to meet me, that she felt comfortable with me and confessed she had never had sex before. She was absolutely beautiful and fantastic. And I had the sheer privilege of initiating her, showing her just how good heaven was and simply let myself go to enjoy her in every way. For it didn't matter anymore my bothering about being careful and the like. She spurred me on. We relaxed on the settee and she seemed unbothered about my then pretty obvious arousal. I kissed her again to find that which we left off earlier, it was still there but now we could really let our true passion spill out being quite alone. In kissing her I felt she wanted to explore our newly found relationship, this girl Louise was well wanting I could tell so the next thing I did was to grab her left hand and brazenly guide it to my hardness over my jeans. The real thrill, of this was knowing she'd never been there before and seeing her reaction. How would she react?, she might be chocked and withdraw her hand immediately. But she didn't and was in for the most thrilling episode I could remember in being with a girl as quite naturally she started to unzip me there, she was flushed and very stupefied it seemed by that kiss, she was a in a frenzy and no way was I going to resist Here was a girl experiencing her first ever encounter with a guy and I was the guy - who had the privilege of being her discovery. When eventually her busy fingers found me, pulled my length out which was very substantial and still growing, it was sheer heaven on earth, just being the one she wanted to explore, I was treated to all the desire eighteen year old girl in her full prime could give, all the discovery , the feeling, the touching, the kissing, the sucking, yes even that, she soon found herself wanting even more after first having just licked my there, stretching it back ands complimenting me eon me scent, how it was so good to be with a guy like me and how much she had been waiting for this moment "Love me, just love me" I whispered as she enjoyed a warm and very slow caress, discovering the flexibility of my cock and the warmth of my balls as she sucked and sucked and sucked so diligently, like she was girl on a mission. And luck me I was the mission. Then I wanted her fuck and how, I could barely hold it back, I wanted to save this for when I was deep inside her - but I was telling myself remember she will be tight, she is a virgin, just slow down a bit and you will enjoy netter and so will she, no sense in hurting her. It was the time for discovery on my part. I had never had a virgin and I wanted to make it perfect for her. I gently persuaded her to come away from my cock and enjoyed her kiss again, so sweet and wonderful, now I wanted to explore her, prompted her to part her legs as I gently rolled up her short tight black skirt and saw she wore a tie on black thong which looked a million dollars on her and very, very sexual. Next thing I was down there quenching my passion for pussy sucking, teasing her thong aside as my tongue soon found her delightful clit, teasing and tantalising her until she screamed with delight, she had a delightful tight pussy that I started to stretch gently with fingers, stopping to look up at her, seeing she was okay with that, and then starting again at her prompting, her hand still caressing my cock in a way which was so delightful. Louise had the most delightfully slim and curved figure any guy could want, a nice firm ample boobs with nipples I discovered so firm. I whispered; "Now?" and she replied "Okay" and I showed her how best to receive me showing her how to slip to the edge of the settee, spread her legs as wide as she could, as I place myself between, for a while just touching her with the head . Teasing her with the sensitivity of all that we both enjoyed, I thought it would not be a problem, her tightness, she was very well primed and so wet, that was the important thing I had read somewhere when fucking a virgin, to make sure she was absolutely ready for it. It was sheer magic, the feel of he tight pussy sucking my cock inside, slowly ,she wriggling from side to side to assist me, a sort of frowned so I stopped - but she urged me on yelling, "harder, harder" and who was I to resist. So I went for there full fuck, pushing it into her deeper and deeper, she yelling but still urging me not to stop, we fucked for about five minuets and I felt her cum just before me, Louise, sweet Louise was no longer a virgin and she was the most delightful fuck I had ever known. The Passion of Angie Chapter 1 The afternoon sun cast shadows on the round wooden table separating the two women sitting before it on the deck of Dominic's Bistro. It was early August and a breeze ruffled the umbrella covering the table. The air had been humid for days and clouds had been gathering since early afternoon, as if a storm was brewing. "Thanks again for buying me lunch, Angie. It's a nice change to be able to eat something that I didn't have to cook." Angie Harris looked across the table at Holly Peters. She gave Holly a warm smile. Angie had met Holly in high school, when Angie's family had moved to Lewiston from upstate New York. They were both fifteen at the time and they formed an instant bond that had lasted over the ensuing twelve years. Angie knew that she should make more effort at keeping in touch with Holly, which is why she had taken that Friday afternoon off of work to meet with her. "You're welcome," Angie said "anything to get you out of the house. It's been ages since I've seen you." Holly gave a regretful sigh as she twirled some angel hair pasta around her fork. "I know. I haven't had much time for a social life since Stephen was born." Her blue eyes flickered as she mentioned her six month old son. "How's he doing?" Angie asked. "Wonderful," Holly beamed "he can be a handful and I find it challenging sometimes, but I could never have imagined how happy a baby could make me." The joy and love that Holly felt for her son was obvious as she spoke. Angie felt a pang of envy as she listened to her friend and saw her face light up as she spoke. "But what about you though? How are you, Holly? You should try to get out more often. Let Ryan take care of Stephen once in a while." "I know," Holly agreed, sounding somewhat annoyed "but it's hard for me to get out. You can always come and visit me though, you know?" Angie darted her hazel eyes away from her friend, feeling as though she had let her down by not visiting as often as she should. "I'm sorry; that was bitchy." Holly apologized. "No. You're right, Holly. I'm sorry I haven't made more effort at keeping in-touch." her friend apologized. "Well, you are now," Holly reminded her "and I appreciate it." Angie was relieved that Holly was being so magnanimous, although she did realize that she should work harder at maintaining their friendship. "I know you're busy with Stephen, but are you able to find time for yourself? That's important, you know." Angie gave Holly a worried look. "Don't worry, I am," Holly assured her "I nap when I can and I've even managed to find a little time for a hobby." "That's great. What hobby have you taken up?" Holly gave her friend an nervous glance. "Promise you won't laugh?" she asked. "Of course I won't laugh. What is it?" "I've been doing some writing in my spare time." "You're writing a novel?" Angie's voice was full of surprise. Holly laughed. "No -- nothing that ambitious -- just a few short stories. I don't have time to read a novel, let alone write one." Angie had always been envious of Holly's intellect. Immediately after finishing high school Holly had entered college. She got a degree in child psychology, then her Master's degree. Once she completed that she earned another degree -- this one in Education. She taught high school, but Angie had always thought that Holly could do about whatever she put her mind to. "I always thought you would be a great writer, Holly. You always did so well with those essays that Mrs. Eastman made us write in school. I probably wouldn't have passed English without your help." Holly gave her friend a modest smile, but she secretly reveled in Angie's praise. "So have you submitted anything to magazines or publishers?" Angie asked. "No. But I've been thinking of submitting at least some to a website that publishes stories by amateur writers. I'll see what sort of feedback I get, then decide what to do next." "I'm sure they'll be a hit," Angie assured her "so when do I get to read something you've written?" Holly shifted in her seat, thinking. The thought of allowing someone else, especially a close friend, to read her work made her anxious. "I'll let you read one, but you've got to promise me two things." "Sure. What?" "Don't show it to anyone else -- even Ryan doesn't know I've been writing -- and you've got to be brutally honest with me about what you think after you've read it; even if you hate it. Hell, especially if you hate it." she said. "It's a deal," Angie promised "I'd love to read what you've written. But you've got to promise to submit it if I like it. Don't let your stories sit in a shoe box somewhere for someone to find after you're dead and make a fortune on, like Kafka." Holly laughed, then her smile faded, "There's one more thing... the website I'm thinking about submitting some of my stories to -- it only accepts erotic stories." She gave Angie a nervous look, waiting for her reaction. "Holly -- don't tell me you've been writing dirty stories!" Angie exclaimed, amused and somewhat shocked by Holly's revelation." Holly winced and twisted about in her chair. "They're more like erotic stories -- nothing too raunchy." "So, no spanking or hot wax on the nipples then?" Holly was surprised by how lurid Angie's imagination could be. "No, nothing that kinky. They're actually pretty vanilla." she assured her. "Okay, I'll read it anyway." Angie retorted with a shameless laugh. "I have them as text files on my computer, so I'll send one as an email attachment tonight." Holly said. "Great. Thanks, Holly," Angie replied "I'll let you know what I think of it as soon as I finish it." "I have to admit, I'm pretty nervous about letting you read it, Ang. No one has read anything I've written so far." "Well, you better get used to the thought lots of people reading them," Angie told her "because I'm sure that there will be plenty who'll want to read it once you submit it." Holly shrugged, not having as much confidence in herself as her friend seemed to. She looked at her watch, then frowned. "I should be getting home. I told Ryan I'd be home around four. I'm sorry. But thanks again for lunch. It was wonderful to see you again, Ang." "You're welcome. I'll be in touch -- I promise. I'm sorry for being such a bad friend lately." Angie said. "It's okay. I understand. I know you're busy with work these days." "Well, things are less hectic now, so you'll see more of me. I'll send you an email at least once I finish the story to tell you what I thought, but I want to get together with you again soon." Angie promised. Chapter 2 After Angie had finished supper that evening she went over to her computer desk in the living room. She booted it up and opened Outlook express, hoping that Holly had sent her story. After scanning the subjects of her emails advertising Viagra, low interest mortgages and a website named Backdoor Bitches, Angie discovered that there was nothing from Holly. She sat down on the couch and turned the television on. Waiting. Nearly three hours later, just after Angie was contemplating going to bed, mostly out of boredom, she heard a sound coming from her computer announcing new email. She got up and went to her computer. Amongst more spam was an email from Holly. She opened it. Hey Ang, I hope you like the story. Tell me what you think, even if it sucks. Thanks again for lunch. See you soon, I hope. Holly Angie downloaded the attachment to her Desktop. She checked the size of the Wordpad file. It was nearly 300 kb. -- much larger than she had expected. Holly had told her she had written a short story, but this was almost a novella Angie thought. It was well past eleven o'clock and Angie wanted to get to bed. But she was also eager to at least begin Holly's story. She clicked on the row of options at the top of the window and selected Print from the menu, then pushed herself away from her computer. The drone and buzz of the printer filled the apartment as Angie made herself a sandwich in the kitchen. Her cat approached from the living room, stretching, then rubbing against Angie's calf. "Hey, Ginger, you hungry?" Angie asked in a melodic tone. Angie poured some cat food in a white plastic bowl beside the fridge and watched as her cat began to eat. Angie ate her sandwich and drank a glass of Pepsi while her printer spat out page after page of Holly's story. Once she had finished eating Angie stood before the television, watching the last few minutes of the news while she waited for her printer to stop. Once the annoying clatter ceased Angie turned the television off and retrieved the papers from the tray. She turned off her computer and went to her bedroom to get ready for bed. Lying in bed with only the glow of a small lamp on her nightstand Angie began Holly's story. The title at the top of the first page read "The Passion of Miranda". Angie rolled her eyes. She desperately wanted to be able to truthfully tell Holly that she liked her story, but already the title had put her off. Undaunted, she began reading. Despite the trite title that Holly had chosen for her story Angie soon found herself absorbed in the plot. It concerned a young woman, Miranda, who, after ending an unhappy marriage takes a trip to eastern Europe. There she meets a man nearly twenty years her senior, Gustav Rahlfeld, whom she falls in love with. Gustav was an erudite noble who had seen his family's fortune nearly erased and their social status eroded after the rise of Communism and The Soviet Bloc. Gustav soon realized there was more to life than wealth and prestige. He turned his efforts to religion and mysticism. His efforts had paid off in ways he had not expected. Eventually Gustav discovered that his practices had resulted in abilities he had heard of, but had always scoffed at. This was a type of power he was unaccustomed to. He had always been taught that money was the best source of power. Still, there was one thing lacking: a woman to share his life with. Angie found herself enthralled with the characters that Holly had woven into her story, especially Gustav. He was described as tall, always well-dressed, with thick black hair and a moustache. He had an accent that was like a siren song to Miranda. As Angie read on she discovered that Holly provided more descriptive details of Gustav, particularly his nude body as he made love to Miranda. Angie smiled to herself as she read Holly's mention of Gustav sitting in a chair, smoking his pipe. It reminded Angie of when she would visit her grandfather as a child. The smell of his pipe was something she always associated with him. Happy childhood memories flooded back as Angie pictured Gustav cupping a pipe in his hand as smoke wafted above his head. Without her even being conscious of it at first, Angie's hand trailed down under the blanket covering her as she read Holly's explicit account of Gustav and Miranda having sex. As Angie read the words describing Gustav's thick cock pushing into Miranda Angie found herself rubbing her swollen clit through her damp panties. Her legs parted as she read. She pressed down on her hard button, imagining it was Gustav's hand caressing her lips. She could picture him in her mind and hear his deep voice and sensual thick accent. "Let us become one, my love." was what Gustav told Miranda as his thick shaft entered her. Angie heard those words in her head as she pushed her panties aside to slip a finger between her wet lips. The sheets of paper containing Holly's story fell to the blanket covering Angie as she slipped her other hand over her camisole. She clutched her right breast as her other hand slid inside her panties. In her mind there was only her and Gustav. Angie could almost feel his weight atop her and his manhood filling her. Soon she cried out, calling out Gustav's name as she had an orgasm, then another. Angie stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard. Although she knew that no one would ever know what she had done she was still embarrassed. She had masturbated before, of course, but never had she been so totally overcome and enraptured by a fantasy. She gathered up the sheets of paper spread over her and placed them on her nightstand. She sat up on the side of the bed and decided to use the bathroom before going to sleep. It was almost one-thirty. When Angie returned to her bedroom from the bathroom she stopped a few feet inside. Something seemed different to her, or perhaps felt different. The air was hot and smelled of her musk. She was wet and she could still feel slight aftershocks from her clit. Angie moved towards her bed. She leaned down to reach for the switch on the lamp on her nightstand. From the corner of her eye she saw a dark figure standing at the foot of her bed, more shadow than substance. Angie jerked her head around. She saw nothing. Angie gave her head a brisk shake and told herself she was tired -- that her mind was playing tricks on her. She turned her light out and lay down on her bed. "Good night, Gustav." Angie whispered as she closed her eyes and pulled the blanket around her chin in the darkness of her bedroom. Chapter 3 Angie awoke the next morning still feeling tired. She rolled over to look at the digital clock on her night stand and discovered that it was almost nine-thirty. She had neglected to turn her alarm on. Thankfully it was a Saturday so she didn't have to go to work. Angie yawned and stretched, looking at the sun shining through the pink curtain covering her bedroom window. She knew she should get up, but still felt drained. Reluctantly she sat up on the side of her bed and pushed her long auburn hair over her shoulders. Lying on a stack of magazines and a partly read novel on the shelf of Angie's night stand were the sheets of paper with Holly's story. Angie looked down at them, smiling as memories of what she had done the previous night flooded back. Then she felt somewhat chagrined at the thought of her lewd actions. She consoled herself with the knowledge that no one else would ever know. Her pussy was still damp and she felt her clit begin to swell as thoughts and images of Gustav filled her mind. She could have easily laid down again and given into her arousal, but decided to have a shower instead. The spray of the hot water on Angie's body seemed to wash away the confusion in her mind. She had always considered her libido to be normal, but lately the stress of work had seemed to have dampened it. Perhaps reading Holly's erotic story was just the release she needed, she thought. She decided to finish reading it that afternoon. Rivulets of water ran down Angie's face into her eyes as she stepped from the shower. She tugged at a blue bath towel draped over the shower rod and dried her face, then began rubbing the towel over her wet hair. The small bathroom was filled with steam. Angie began drying her body. She ran the terrycloth towel up her left leg towards her hip. As she raised her head Angie saw the mirror above the sink. It was coated with condensation from the steam of the shower, but there was something else. Angie's arms went limp as she stepped closer, squinting through the mist in the room. Etched in the droplets of water coating the mirror were the words Let us become one, my love. Angie froze in terror. Her head jerked towards the bathroom door. It was closed. Angie froze, listening for an intruder in her apartment. She heard nothing. Wrapping the towel tight around her wet body, Angie stepped towards the bathroom door. She turned the knob, careful to make as little noise as possible. She opened the door and peered out. Angie could feel her heart race as she stepped into the hallway. She looked left and right, expecting to see someone lurking in a corner. The hallway was empty. Pressing her back to the wall, Angie stole towards the living room. Every muscle of her body was ready to react. The living room was empty as well, except for Ginger sleeping on a chair. Angie glanced towards the kitchen. Seeing no one, she ran towards the row of drawers beside her fridge. Tugging a drawer open, Angie grabbed a steak knife in her trembling hand and looked around. She felt more confident with a weapon now. Gripping the knife by it's wooden handle Angie made her way towards the door to her apartment. She turned the knob and pulled. The door rattled, but did not open. Angie turned and pressed her back against the door, adrenaline racing to every nerve, her breathing rapid. Angie made her way towards the window in the living room. Although her apartment was on the seventh floor she still made sure it was secure. It was. She also checked the patio doors opening on to her balcony. The windows in her bedroom and bathroom were also secure she discovered. Feeling relieved, yet perplexed, Angie returned the steak knife to the kitchen drawer, then got dressed. When Angie returned to the bathroom she discovered that the steam had dissipated. The message she had seen earlier scrawled on her mirror had disappeared as well. Angie stared at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she was losing her mind. Chapter 4 Perhaps some food would help, Angie thought, as she cracked an egg. She stirred the eggs about in the pan and dropped in four sausages. A big breakfast did seem to vanquish Angie's unease. She ate more than she intended, then opened to the door to her apartment. Lying in the hallway in front of her door was the morning paper. Angie picked it up, then locked the door behind her, giving it a shake to ensure it was secure. It rattled, but remained shut. She spread the paper out on the table and began reading. While Angie read her horoscope Ginger jumped up on the table. She began lapping at the grease from the sausages on Angie's empty plate. "Ginger, you know you're not allowed to do that." Angie said, shaking her head. Ginger kept licking the plate, indifferent to Angie. Angie returned to the newspaper, looking at the weather forecast for the weekend. Seconds later, Ginger raised her head and turned towards the living room. She growled. Her back arched and the fur on her tail stuck out like a pine tree. "Hey, what's the matter?" Angie asked, running her hand down her cat's curved spine. Ginger jumped from the table and crept towards the living room, still growling. Angie followed Ginger, curious and worried about what had alarmed the cat. Her nerves were still on edge after her experience in the bathroom. She looked around, but the living room was empty. "It's okay, Ginger, there's no one here." Angie told her cat. Angie assumed that her cat was being an alarmist, either due to an impending storm or the phase of the moon. She returned to her paper in the kitchen. It was mid-afternoon when Angie remembered Holly's story. She went to her room and gathered the papers from her night stand. She settled out on her balcony and sat down. It was a beautiful afternoon with a light breeze. Angie continued reading where she had left off the night before. Soon she found herself engrossed in the story of Gustav and Miranda. She was somewhat shocked by Holly's detailed scenes of sex between the characters -- even embarrassed at the thought of the story being a window to Holly's innermost thoughts, or perhaps fantasies. Still, she soon found herself becoming turned on. Her clit pulsed and her lips grew damp. She pressed her thighs together as she read. The breeze had stiffened her nipples, or maybe it was Holly's prose. Angie's fingers moved up towards her left breast. She rubbed and pulled at her nipple through her blouse as she read. Ginger joined Angie on the patio. She jumped up on her mistress' lap, but was soon eased off by Angie with a gentle push. "Let me finish reading." Angie told her cat. The Passion of Angie Ginger purred as she rubbed against Angie's leg. The afternoon breeze had increased. So had Angie's arousal as she read her friend's story. She read faster, noticing she only had two pages remaining. The wind had made the air cool, but Angie wanted to get inside for another reason: her wet pussy and throbbing clit were demanding attention. She finished Holly's story and stood up, clutching the pages in her hand as the breeze blew her hair about. "Come on, Ginger, we're going in." Angie said in a melodic tone. Angie stepped to the open patio door, looking back to make sure her cat was following her. Ginger was staring towards a corner of the balcony. Her back was arched and she was growling. "It's just the wind," Angie said "come on." Ginger looked towards the open door and scurried inside. In a moment she had disappeared from sight. Angie laughed to herself, then froze. In the reflection of the glass patio door she saw the figure of a person. A man. Angie's heart sped up and she wheeled around, ready to confront the intruder. She saw nothing besides her patio furniture. She scanned her balcony, dumbfounded. Her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. Angie stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Once it was locked she tugged at it. It refused to move. Angie pulled the curtain across the sliding glass doors and walked towards the couch. She dropped the papers with Holly's story on her coffee table and laid down on the couch. Once she closed her eyes she formed a mental image of Gustav. She heard him speak the lines that Holly had written. Sliding her hand down her stomach Angie smiled. She unfastened her jeans and pulled at the zipper. Her back arched as she slid them down her hips. In her mind it was Gustav undressing her. She could imagine him crouched over her, his hot breath teasing her neck. "Let us become one, my love." The words echoed in Angie's mind. Angie let out a moan as her hand slid inside her panties to her throbbing clit. She raised her hips to meet her hand, imagining Gustav's thick cock spreading her wet lips as he pushed inside her, filling her. She could picture his dark eyes and mustache and almost feel his rough whiskers as he sucked her nipple. Squeezing her breast through her blouse, Angie recalled passages from Holly's story. But in her mind it was her, not Miranda, who Gustav was lying atop, thrusting his cock inside. She opened her thighs wider, imagining his muscled legs rubbing along the insides of hers, the hair teasing her sensitive skin. The wind outside had increased. So had Angie's breathing. She could feel herself getting closer. As much as she wanted release, she also wanted this fantasy to continue. Unable to resist, Angie slid two fingers deep in her soaking pussy as her other hand pressed down on her clit. She moaned. As Angie got closer and knew that the first wave of an orgasm was imminent she felt a weight on her, pressing on her hips, holding her legs open. Angie opened her eyes, remaining motionless. Now she could feel pressure on her hands through her jeans, forcing her fingers against her pulsing clit. Her fingers moved over her swollen button as the pressure on them increased. Angie gasped and cried out as she came. She clamped her eyes shut. In her mind Gustav was still there, waiting for her. Angie imagined his naked body on top of her as two more orgasms surged, leaving her limp. Angie sat up and looked around her apartment. Now she found it cold. She looked towards the patio doors, although she knew she had closed them earlier. She noticed the curtain covering the large glass doors swaying gently. Angie went to the patio door and pulled at it. It never moved. Angie turned around. Her wide eyes darted around the apartment. It was colder now. She saw the curtain covering the window on the opposite wall move. She approached it. The wind inside her apartment had increased. Angie's hair began to move. She could feel her skin tingle and develop bumps from the cold. Angie stood in the middle of her living room, turning around in confusion as terror welled inside her. "Gustav?" she said, almost whispering in disbelief. The papers containing Holly's story blew off of the coffee table, scattering across the carpet. "Gustav -- stop it!" Angie shouted in fright and anger. The apartment became calm. Angie looked around. The drapes covering her windows hung limp towards the floor. It felt warmer again, like before. Angie's hands trembled as she tugged at the zipper of her jeans then buttoned them. She gathered up the sheets of paper strewn over her floor and put them back on the coffee table. She looked around, waiting for any other unexpected or unexplainable occurrences. The apartment was silent except for the whirring of the fridge in the kitchen. "Ginger... come here, Ginger." Angie called out as she turned her head, looking for her pet. Angie roamed about her apartment, searching for her frightened cat. Eventually she found Ginger crouched in her closet. "It's okay. Come here, sweetie." Angie said in a high-pitched voice as she bent down towards her cat. Ginger growled and hissed. Angie recoiled a bit, then inched her hands towards the cat. She picked Ginger up, feeling her tremble. Angie stroked Ginger's back as she carried her out to the kitchen. She sat the cat down beside her white plastic food dish, then poured some fresh food in from a box. Ginger gave the food a wary sniff, then looked up at Angie. After a few moments she began eating. Angie returned to the living room and sat down on the couch. She replayed the events of that afternoon in her mind, beginning with seeing the reflection of a man in her patio door and ending with the gust of wind inside her apartment. Many explaintions occurred to her, but none satisfied her. Ginger was still eating when Angie returned to the kitchen. She decided that preparing some food would at least give her something else to concentrate on. After Angie finished eating she decided to email Holly. She stared at the blank email message box, wondering what to say. Her mind was full of questions, but she feared that Holly would worry about her sanity if she voiced them. Most people probably would. Angie decided that it was best to discuss the afternoon's strange phenomena, or whatever it was, in-person. She typed a brief email to Her friend saying that she enjoyed her story very much, wanted to read more, and that she would call her soon. Once the email was sent Angie poured herself a glass of wine, hoping it would calm her, then settled down on the couch to watch television. She sipped the wine and tried to occupy her mind with mindless sitcoms. The glass of wine helped to relax Angie, so she decided to have another before going to bed. That night she slept well. Chapter 5 After Angie finished supper the next evening she called Holly. She seemed surprised, yet pleased, to hear from Angie so soon. "I liked your story a lot, Holly," Angie told her friend "I told you that you were talented. Keep it up!" "Thanks, Ang. It was my first one and I probably could have done better, but your encouragement really means a lot." "So, I want to get together with you again soon. When's a good time for you?" Angie asked, hoping her friend was not busy that up-coming week. "I'm free most afternoons, or can be. Ryan's mom is willing to babysit Stephen most anytime. She really loves spending time with him." she said. "Great," Angie said "I don't have any meetings Wednesday afternoon. Would around one o'clock be okay?" There was a pause while Holly thought. "Yeah, that should be fine. I'll call Barbara and see if she can take Stephen then." "Okay. If there are any problems, or whatever, give me a call. But I'll otherwise I'll meet you at the bistro then." "Great. Thanks again, Ang." After talking with Holly Angie felt somewhat relieved. At least plans had been made so she could fully explain to Holly what she had experienced while reading her story. Maybe Holly had been having similar experiences, or could provide some plausible explaintion. Angie sat down on the couch and aimed the remote at the television. The screen flicked on. She flinched a bit as Ginger lept onto her lap. She smiled and shook her head, realizing how jittery she had become as she petted her cat. Ginger curled up on Angie's lap and began purring. Angie found Ginger's rhythmic purrs soothing and she too relaxed. Chapter 6 Traffic was heavy that Monday morning as Angie drove to work. She rolled her car window down and turned the radio louder. She sang along to a song on the radio as she waited for a traffic light to change to green. Angie was in a good mood, despite having to go to work. Thoughts of Gustav and the strange happenings in her apartment had all but left her mind. The travel agency where Angie worked was quiet as she walked in. A few of her co-workers stood around a coffee maker discussing politics and sports. Angie greeted them as she went towards her office. "Oh, Angie, I have a phone message for you." the receptionist called out. Angie stopped and turned towards Valerie Holmes. She had worked at Atkinson Travel for over two years and Angie had come to rely on her a great deal. "What is it?" Angie asked. Valerie shuffled papers about on her desk, then held up a small yellow piece of paper. She scanned it before speaking. "Your one o'clock appointment for Wednesday canceled." Valerie said. Angie thought for a moment. "Holly?" she asked. Valerie looked down at the paper in her hand once more, seeming confused. "No," she said "Mister Rahfeld.... Gustav. That's what it sounded like. He had a thick accent. Russian, or something." Angie felt her arms go limp. Her body felt cold. "What else did he say?" she asked. "That was it," Valerie said "oh... he said something about planning a trip to Prague for him and a companion. He had a sexy voice. I wouldn't mind traveling with him." Valerie giggled as she tossed the paper aside. "Did he leave a number?" Angie asked. "No," Valerie told her "I asked, but he said he'd contact you." "Okay. Thanks, Val." Angie closed the door to her small office behind her. She dropped her brown leather satchel on her desk. She fell into the chair behind her desk with a sigh, staring out the window. Angie turned towards the phone on her desk, almost afraid that it would ring, then hoped it would. "Maybe I'm not crazy afterall." she mumbled to herself, encouraged, yet perplexed by Valerie having spoken with Gustav. Throughout the rest of the day Angie tried to stay focused on her job and appear professional. She only had a few clients, which gave her time to think. Probably too much. Her phone only rang once that afternoon. Angie jumped, staring at it, almost afraid to pick up the receiver. When she did she discovered it was a young woman wanting information on trips to London. Driving home from work Angie's mind was once more filled with questions. She hoped that Holly could provide some answers when they met on Wednesday, but she had begun to doubt it. As she pushed the key into the lock at her apartment door Angie felt her hand tremble. She dreaded entering. She no longer felt safe there. She pushed the door open and looked inside. Everything appeared normal. Still, she knew that meant nothing. Things had been anything but normal recently. She entered and closed the door behind her. She locked it, then tugged at it. "Hey, Ginger." she said as she saw her cat approaching. Angie squatted beside Ginger and ran her hand down her back. Ginger began purring and rubbed against Angie's leg. Angie felt relieved by how contented her cat was. Ginger had become like a canary in a coalmine to her, seeming much more attune to whatever entity had manifest itself in the apartment. Angie reminded herself to be more aware of Ginger's moods since she seemed to be a harbinger of Gustav's presence. She refilled Ginger's dish with food and poured fresh water in another for her. Angie went to her phone to check to see if she had any voicemail. There was none. Feeling relieved, Angie started her computer. She turned the television on to watch the news while her computer booted. Besides the usual spam there were no emails in her Inbox. Angie slipped her shoes off and went to the kitchen, deciding to make supper. As she pulled at the handle of the fridge she detected a strange scent. She turned around, breathing in deeper. The hallway leading to the bathroom and bedrooms was dark. Angie turned on a light. Now the scent she was following was stronger. Angie stopped. She recognized the smell, but still could not believe it. It was pipe tobacco. She had not encountered that scent since her visits to her grandfather with her parents over twenty years ago. Angie's nostrils flared as she drew in the familiar odor. Once inside her bedroom Angie discovered that it was strongest there. Angie stood beside her bed, scanning her room. She saw no smoke in the air, yet the smell of pipe tobacco was almost overwhelming. It was not unpleasant however. In fact, she found herself smiling as it triggered memories. Angie sat down on her bed. Every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Angie had never known such a sensation, but enjoyed it. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the odor of the tobacco. It was almost intoxicating. As if she was guided my unseen hands Angie found herself lying down on her bed. She planted her bare feet on the blanket beneath her and parted her knees. Her breathing grew deeper as she tugged at the hem of her skirt, pulling it up her thighs. She lifted up off of the bed to slide her panties down towards her ankles. She could feel a gentle breeze caress her. She looked up to the window at the foot of her bed. It was closed. "Gustav...?" she breathed. Angie could feel the temperature in her bedroom lower. It made her nipples stiffen. She fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled the tails from her skirt. She pulled it open wide. Her nipples were hard, rubbing over the inside of her bra. Angie tugged at the cups of her bra, pulling them down to free her breasts. They rose from her chest, her dark nipples stiff and tingling. Angie pinched them as she closed her eyes. A deep moan welled in her throat and escaped her lips. "Let us become one, my love." she moaned as her hand slid down towards her wet lips. Angie pressed her fingers to her hard clit. She rubbed it as her hand squeezed her left breast. She pinched her nipple, then tugged at it until she cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. She could detect the scent of her pussy beginning to mingle with the odor of pipe tobacco in the room. She pushed two fingers between her lips, sliding them deeper inside her. She had never felt so full down there, or so stretched by just her own fingers before. No lover in the past had ever felt so satisfying. She felt the inside of her thighs tingle, as if they were being caressed by wisps of silk. She moaned, thrusting her fingers in and out of herself. Faster, until the palm of her hand met her clit. Her other hand slid down her quivering stomach. "Oh, god... Gustav... take me." Angie cried out in a throaty voice. Angie could feel an orgasm building. She was surprised because usually it took much longer for her to reach this point. Even in the past with boyfriends she needed a lot of foreplay and much more attention paid to her clit for her to climax, if ever. Sometimes she was left to finish herself off while her partner watched, or slept. Her pussy griped her fingers tighter, holding them inside as Angie came. She pushed her hips up from the bed, writing about as her body tingled. "Oh, god... Gustav." she cried out, then went limp. When Angie woke from her slumber her room was dark. She squinted, trying to see any light coming from her bedroom window but there was none. She rolled over and looked at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was 2:33. "Shit." Angie muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her bed. The bedroom was heavy with the scent of Angie's musk, but the smell of the pipe tobacco had gone, or was over-powered by the smell of sex. Angie pushed her hair back and went out towards the living room. Despite having slept for hours she still felt tired. Drained. In the living room Angie found Ginger sleeping on the back of the sofa. The cat opened her eyes and looked at Angie as she walked by, then lowered her head again. Angie refilled Ginger's empty food dish then went back to bed. Chapter 7 "Come with me, my love. Tonight our souls shall become one." Gustav's hand was firm and demanding as he spoke. He pulled at Angie's fingers. He lead her up the three steps to the landing, looking back at her. Her hand rested on the oak banister, griping it to resist his pull. Moonlight shone through the windows in the hall to her left, illuminating Gustav. Angie's eyes moved from his hand clutching hers to the front of his robe. Beneath the belt tied loosely around his waist Angie saw how his erection reached out towards her. Gustav's dark eyes met Angie's as she gave her wrist another tug. Angie felt herself growing wetter as he escorted her up the rest of the stairs to his bedroom. Gustav's bedroom was dark, save a candle burning on a stand beside the large bed at one end of the room. He brought her over to the bed and untied his robe. It fell to his feet. Angie ran her eyes down Gustav's naked body. His shoulders were broad and his chest muscled, covered with a mat of wispy hair. As he began unbuttoning her dress Angie felt his stiff cock caress her stomach and thigh. She stared down at it. It was thick, with bulging veins leading to a thick patch of hair at the base. She traced her fingertips up the underside to his heavy balls. She held them in her palm, then gave them a gentle squeeze. Angie's dress fell around her ankles. Moments later her bra slipped down her arms to the floor. Gustav cupped her breasts in his hands. Angie shuddered as he gave them a hard squeeze then sucked a nipple between his lips. She cupped the back of his head in her hand, drawing him closer as her fingers moved through his thick hair. Angie awoke from her dream feeling scared and disoriented. She turned on the light on her nightstand and scanned her bedroom. Ginger was sleeping at her feet. The bedroom appeared normal, devoid of any foreign odors. Feeling somewhat comforted, Angie turned the light out and tried to fall back to sleep. Chapter 7 "Ugh..." Angie grunted as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She brushed her hair from her face, noticing how pale she looked. Angie had not slept well the night before and it showed on her face. She was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. She reached for a tube of lipstick on the counter and applied some to her lips, hoping it would improve her palid appearance. She dropped the lipstick tube on the counter beside the sink then stared at her reflection. Traffic seemed lighter than usual as Angie drove to work that morning. She rolled her car window down, hoping the breeze would wake her up and make her feel better. "Are you okay, Ang?" Valerie asked as Angie walked in the office. "Uh... I think I'm coming down with the flu." Angie told her. "Why don't you take the day off? It's been pretty slow around here lately." Angie said. "I'll stick it out today, but I might call in sick tomorrow." Angie told her, remembering her lunch date with Holly. Angie poured a mug of coffee and went in her office. She was relieved to discover that she had no voicemails or messages to respond to. She sipped her coffee and stared out of the window, thinking. The day ended up being an unproductive one for Angie. She did some paperwork and made a few phonecalls, but most of it was spent thinking about Gustav as her unfocused eyes peered out of the small window by her desk. She was glad that she would be meeting Holly the next afternoon. Angie was eager to unburden herself and hoped that Holly would have some advice to offer. As five o' clock approached she decided to take the next day off. She could sleep late and meet Holly later. The Passion of Angie "Val, I won't be in tomorrow," Angie said as she left that afternoon "I really feel like crap. Hopefully a day of rest will help. Valerie gave Angie an understanding nod and a smile. "I don't blame you. Take whatever time you need, I say. There's no point in coming in if you're not feeling well." Angie walked to her car. Already she felt better knowing she would not have to work the next day. She appreciated Valerie's concern, but realized part of it was probably motivated by her not wanting to catch whatever virus Angie seemed to have caught. As Angie pushed her apartment key into the lock she felt her body growing tense. Her jaw was tight when she heard the soft click of the lock opening. She pushed the door open and peered inside. Nothing seemed amiss she thought to herself as she stepped inside. Ginger's food dish was empty so Angie filled it up again then replenished her water bowl. She called for the cat and was relieved to see her trotting out from the living room, seeming as content as ever. "Did we have any company while I was gone?" Angie asked the cat as she stroked her back. Ginger purred and arched her back as Angie rubbed the base of her spine, then resumed eating. Angie was glad to be home. She was even happier to not see or smell any obvious signs of Gustav's presence. She turned the television on and walked down the hall towards the bathroom. When she flipped the switch to the bathroom light and entered Angie froze. She wanted to scream but felt to weak to force sounds from her mouth. Written in lipstick on the bathroom mirror was a message: Come with me, my love. Panic and fear welled in Angie's chest. Her breathing grew rapid as she stared at the words, neatly written on the mirror. Lying on the counter was her tube of lipstick. The end of it was no longer a neat conical shape, but flattened and compressed. Angie looked around the bathroom. Nothing else seemed out of place. She picked up the lipstick tube and tossed it hard towards the wicker garbage can in the corner. It bounced off of the wall and rolled behind the toilet. Angie sighed. Suddenly it occurred to her to check her bedroom. Angie hurried towards the doorway and looked inside. Her bed was unmade as she had left it that morning and everything seemed to be in place. On her night stand were the papers containing Holly's story of Gustav and Miranda in a neat stack. Angie stared at them, trying to recall whether she had brought them into her room or had left them on the coffee table. She feared she was losing her mind. Drawing in a deep breath as her resolve grew stronger Angie gathered the papers from the night stand and brought them into the kitchen. She pulled open a draw beside the sink and shifted it's contents about with her hand. Not finding what she was searching for Angie opened another. She smiled and let out a sigh when she discovered a book of matches at the bottom of the drawer. Angie struck a match. She watched as the amber flame grew, then picked up the papers beside the sink. The corners of them glowed as the flame from the match began to envelop them. Angie dropped the match into the sink, watching the flame spread upwards, enveloping the paper. She dropped them into the sink, feeling relieved as the fame spread, turning the white paper to ashes. "Good-bye, Gustav." she said, watching the flames turning Holly's story to bits of curled ashes in the sink. She stood there until not a scrap of the white paper remained, then turned on the tap and sent them down the drain. While she ate supper Angie felt a sense of relief and optimism that she had not felt for a while. She was sure that with the destruction of Holly's story would come an end to whatever force or phenomena that had manifested itself in her life. Ginger was relaxed as well, which Angie found encouraging. As Angie got ready for bed that night she stared at Gustav's message on the mirror once more -- hopefully his last message. She pulled off a length of toilet paper from the roll and was about to begin cleaning the mirror, then stopped. Angie decided to leave the message, at least temporarily, in case Holly wanted to see it. The handwriting was obviously not Angie's and it was the only tangible proof she had of Gustav's presence. Her bed was soft and welcoming as Angie laid down and pulled the sheets over her. She closed her eyes and smiled, hoping she would have a good sleep and not be plagued with dreams of Gustav. That night she slept well. Chapter 8 The next morning Angie slept in as planned. She got up feeling refreshed and cheerful. She was looking forward to seeing Holly that afternoon so she could explain her strange happenings, but also tell her friend that she had found the solution. Angie arrived close to a half hour early for her lunch date with Holly. She checked her watch several times, growing anxious as one o'clock approached. When she saw Holly approaching she felt relieved and gave her friend a wave. "I hope I'm not late," Holly said "I had to change Stephen right before I left. Talk about bad timing." "No, you're right on time." Angie replied. Although Angie was eager to relate her recent ordeal to Holly she decided to wait a while, rather than bringing it up immediately. After Holly had shown Angie the most recent photos of her son and talked about him a while Angie decided it was a good time to tell her about Gustav. "Holly, have you ever had anything weird happen to you?" she asked. "Well, I used to date a guy in college who wanted me to stick a finger in his ass when I gave him head. Does that count?" Holly shot back, laughing. "Well, that is weird, but I was thinking more along the lines of ghosts and stuff." Angie said. "No. What's been going on, Ang?" "Okay... here goes..." Angie sighed. Angie began with the first message on her bathroom mirror and ending with the most recent one written in lipstick. Angie made a point of not mentioning the times she had masturbated while thinking of Gustav, or how turned-on Holly's story had made her. She considered those aspects pertinent, but much too private and embarrassing to disclose to Holly. Once she had finished telling Holly what she had been experiencing Angie leaned back in her chair, studying the pensive look on her friend's face. Holly had not laughed or scoffed while Angie spoke, which Angie found somewhat surprising, but she was still fully prepared for Holly to tell her she was losing her mind. When Holly eventually spoke it raised even more questions. "So you're telling me all this happened as a result of reading my story?" Holly asked. "Yes. I know it sounds crazy, Holly, but I had a hurricane in my living room. I don't know what the hell is going on." "It sounds like you've created an egrigore." Holly said. "What's that?" Angie asked. Her brow furrowed and she hooded her eyes, thinking. "It's a thoughtform that manifests as the result of one or more people concentrating on an idea or entity." Holly explained. "Okay, now I'm even more confused." "Have you ever heard of The Philip Experiment?" Holly asked. Angie shook her head. "Let me explain then," Holly said, "in nineteen seventy-two a group of eight paranormal researchers -- ghost hunters in today's language -- got together with the intent of creating a ghost. They wrote a detailed biography for him and named him Philip Aylesford. Then they tried to contact Philip, with no success. About a year later they learned about table rapping -- where a spirit would knock on a table. Once for 'yes' twice for 'no', that sort of thing. Eventually they contacted Philip and asked him questions about his life, which they had actually written themselves. His answers, in the form of knocks, were always correct, although he knew nothing beyond the biography of him that the group had written." Angie was astonished and somewhat dumbfounded by Holly's lengthy explaintion. She thought for a while, digesting it and attempting to understand how it related to her situation. "So I've created a Philip, except his name is Gustav?" she asked. "Pretty much," Holly replied with a laugh "this sort of practice is well documented -- you can Google it -- although it's usually done intentionally with a very specific goal or egrigore in mind. Tibetan Buddhist monks do it too, except they call them tulpas, but it's essentially the same thing. You've done it accidentally, Ang." "So it's not a ghost or poltergeist?" "No," Holly said "it's a manifestation of your psyche -- one that is as real as a poltergeist though." "So how do I get rid of it then? I thought that burning the story would be enough." "Sometimes they just go away on their own if you ignore them, but the most effective ways to disperse them are through prayer or breathing them in." Holly explained. "Huh?" Angie grunted, tilting her head to one side. "When a egrigore is present, the one who created it can draw it in with a deep breath. This will cause what feels like a static shock inside the body. It gets rid of them -- although I don't know if I'd recommend this." "So I don't need an exorcist then?" Angie asked, sounding worried. "No, nothing that drastic, I don't think." Holly said with a laugh. "Thanks, Holly." Angie sighed "I was beginning to think I was going crazy and I was sure you'd think the same." Angie drove home, feeling even more relieved and comforted after talking with Holly. That evening as she watched television she replayed the conversation in her mind, focusing on Holly's advice about getting rid of Gustav, should he make his presence known again. The apartment was calm that evening. Ginger was curled up beside Angie sleeping. It occurred to Angie that she should email Holly to thank her for her advice that afternoon and tell her she'd be in-touch soon to arrange a time for them to meet again. Angie's computer beeped and the fan began to whir when she started it. She looked at the screen, watching as her desktop appeared. Once her computer had finished booting Angie typed an email to Holly telling her how much she appreciated her input on the Gustav situation and that she would like to get together for lunch the following week. Once her email had been sent Angie turned the television off then went in to the kitchen. She refilled Ginger's dishes with food and water and checked to make sure her door was locked. As she turned off the kitchen light and went back towards the living room Angie heard her printer start. The drone and clatter of the printer filled the living room. Angie stood over it as the cartridge moved back and forth. Eventually a sheet of paper landed in the tray. Angie squinted as she brought it up to her face to read what was printed on it. Tonight our souls become one, my love. Angie dropped the sheet of paper on her desk. She turned and walked to her bedroom. A gentle breeze filled Angie's bedroom. The curtains hanging over the window began to blow about. Angie looked at the window to make sure it was closed, although she knew it was. Angie smiled as she began unbuttoning her blouse.