The Children of Hamelin Read Online Free PDF

York dust.
    She took it all in without showing any surprise, which did little for my ego. But then she turned that smile on me, said simply: “Yes,” took off my coat, tossed it to the floor with a grand gesture, gently pushed me to the section of couch by the windows, held finger to her lips, and with her peacoat still on, began rummaging through my records.
     
    Let it happen, baby.
    She finally came up with an early Ravi Shankar album, which seemed to fit the mood of the moment, and while I winced in agony for a minute, she put the record on the turntable, diddled with the controls, and sitar music set at very low volume barely textured the air.
    She ruffled her soaked hair, then came across the room to me, moving with the music. Standing over me, she said, “Let’s get comfortable,” and unbuttoned the top button of her peacoat. She paused, seemed to change her mind about something.
    And leaned over to me and unbuttoned my shirt. Then, putting her arms around my neck, she eased my arms out of the sleeves, and as she dropped the shirt to the floor, the tip of her tongue touched my ear briefly. Moving in a slow-motion dream, I started to take my undershirt off, but she shook her head, pulled my hands away, and kissed me very lightly on the lips as she took the undershirt off herself. And I finally got the strange, delicious message: she was going to undress me.
    Let it happen, baby.
    As she slid her hands down my naked chest, I felt turned on in a slow trance-like way I had never experienced before. I didn’t have to make this chick, sell her anything, convince her to do anything, and there was nothing I had to prove. She wasn’t going to let me have what I wanted; she was making me want what she wanted me to want, and then she would give it to me as a very special gift. And all I had to do was let it happen.
    Took off my shoes. Socks. Tickled the soles of my bare feet. I could taste what was going to come but I had no reason to be in a hurry—a special sweetness I had never felt before.
    Now she stood away from me and took off her boots; her legs were slim and naked beneath that silly peacoat she still had on. She undid the second button on the peacoat.
    “Stand up,” she said.
    I stood up.
    She undid my belt, slid my pants over my ankles, and I stood poised before her in underpants stretched taut before me like a sail before a full following wind. The moment hung... and once again, she did the perfect, delicious unexpected:
    She sank to her knees. She toyed with the elastic of my shorts. And again the unexpected, more beautiful than even my best anticipating fantasy could be; instead of taking them off, her voice went through me like the touch of flesh: “Please, make yourself naked for me.”
    God! Her kneeling before me like that, eating me up with those eyes, and asking me to take off my pants for her as if it were a most special favor I could do for her... I never felt more wanted in my life.
    Diving into her eyes, I took off the underpants. Her eyes never left mine as she ran her tongue slowly up my cock from root to tip like a little girl who had just unwrapped a Christmas lollypop; I felt man enough and big enough to fuck the universe!
    But just that once—then, like a cat, she was on her feet, whirled around, leapt to the top of the table, and stood there, her hands on her hips, smiling down on me she began to unbutton the peacoat; beneath it was nothing but pale skin. Under the coat, she was completely naked. Where was I? Not in my own pad... This was a thing out of dreams.
    She threw the coat to the floor and stood proudly nude before me—pale bruisable skin, wild black hair, small upright breasts with tiny nipples jauntily erect. I stood locked in stasis, afraid to shatter the magic of the dream.
    Suddenly, incredibly, she leapt from the table like an uncoiling jungle cat and knocked me to the floor beneath her. At once tender and savage, she sunk tiny feral teeth into my shoulder and began