The door before him was different than the others. Wider, made of solid hand-rubbed walnut, its very character carried a warning of what may lie inside. Imagining the overwhelming strength necessary to force it open, he placed his hand on the cold, black, iron latch, pressed downward, and felt the door swing silently inward. Elyse hung from the scaffold, her body drenched with sweat, her legs and belly still convulsing as Simon suddenly robbed her of her orgasm. She felt his cock leave her, withdrawing as quickly as it had entered her, and she struggled to capture it again, thrusting her narrow hips at him in a futile effort to trap the hard, golden rod of flesh between her legs, to somehow will the plump cockhead back inside her hungry cunt. In her mind's eye, the line of men before her advanced, each of them ready to take her, each somehow promising her a release of equal intensity. She saw them as bare-chested satyrs, erections wagging eagerly in the air, wet with a layer of. There was the truck slewed across the lanes of the highway, the two women from the Ford were standing at the side of their car and the paramedics were dealing with my wreck seen through the broken rails of the safety barrier. Another team was treating the driver of the Range Rover for what appeared to be minor head cuts. His car was jammed against the concrete of the central meridian wall. While he and his family stood at the edge of the road nearby.I had a sudden feeling this picture was very important I couldn't tear my attention away from it. The newsprint dots, the writing, the position of the people in the photograph. It was suddenly essential I see something in this photograph. Something that had to do with my new-found gift. I knew this had to do with the 'obligation' which I'd been told about during my dream.I closed my eyes and laid my hand across the paper. With a deep breath, I cleared my mind and allowed the photograph to take shape in my head. The sharpness of the image.
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