Peter wondered if it had all been a dream. If it had been, it was the most realistic dream ever. The memories of the dream did not fade, like memories...of dreams normally did. No, they were as clear as any memory. Was he dead? Was this purgatory? Where was he?Peter had been an avid reader of erotic stories, many of which were on-line. It wasn't long before the idea came to him that there might have been something to all those "DoOver" stories he'd read. That started him wondering what he could. As I heard the bone-jarring thud of each clog, I felt those wiggly, jiggling, bouncy tugs torture my clitoris. To heighten the pleasure, I glazed over my eyes to concentrate better on my genitalia. Admittedly in another level of consciousness by then, my prancing gait had driven me into a state of complete abandon. I was oblivious to everything but the motions that created my bliss, including my wide-eyed little Louise. The trance that her flopping locket’s tugs induced was shattered by the. More

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