My index traces the ornaments on it, the intricate designs, the seemingly erratic patterns that lose themselves in the most filigree fractals—a masterpiece of handicraft.“Twenty-four hours to fulfill dreams beyond your wildest imaginations—fantasies you never knew you had, the wishes of your deepest subconscious…” I recall the senile hag in the souvenir shop that reminded me more of a seedy voodoo-fortune-teller booth at an abandoned amusement park, “…once you've solved the puzzle.” I can still hear her witchy, chill-inducing B-movie requisite snicker.Puzzle? I can't find no damn puzzle on that thing! “It's just a decorative cube,” I repeat my mantra, doing a poor job at convincing myself it is just a cheap pseudo-tribal mumbo-jumbo replica. Yet, every time I re-iterate the simple phrase, my heart heightens its unfamiliar fluttering.Click“Click?” I surprisedly echo, suddenly feeling a thin slab move under my thumb.My eyes try to follow the kaleidoscopic fragments changing along with. I felt weird and dirty, still. I wondered how HE had felt. Ugh. Just remembering what happened made me tingle with arousal all over. My whole body felt weird, like jelly. Was this how every girl felt? I doubted it. Without knowing it, my hand had slipped down into my shorts as well as my panties. I was wetreally, REALLY wet. I let my middle finger stimulate my clitoris. Almost immediately I felt like smiling and closing my eyes in pleasure. It felt good. It felt real good. I sighed as it began to tickle but the sense of pleasure was still there. The small nub grew a bit bigger, making me gasp as I stimulated it. It was sending small shocks of ecstasy all over me. Oh, I mumbled, feeling myself throb once again. I imagined Mr. Brooke on top of me, or at least his hands, were touching me. I imagined his long, nimble finger was doing what I was doing to my clitoris. I imagined him bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I imagined his hand squeezing my left breast the way I was.
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