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ÂShe was touching herself. Running her hands overÂher body. Grasping her small firm breast. Playing with the nipple, pinching it. She slid her hand slowly down her torso to rest between her legs. She spread her pink lips, and, using her middle finger, started to stimulate her clit.
ÂShe was trying to imagine that what she was reading was really happening to her. Without much success. (She wasnt even wet yet) And what was she reading? A romance novel. She hated romance novels. She didnt see how any woman could get off to this cheasy smut. Of course; she wasnt just any woman either. Besides. Her fantasies were of a somewhat......darker nature. None of this damsel in distress, pink champagne and roses bull shit.
Â"Oh, fuck it" she moaned in frustration. Closing her book and her legs, she stood up and put on a long black robe. Silk. So thin it was almost transparent. She tied the belt loosley around her waist. With book in hand she crossed the room, flung open the French doors, and stepped out onto the balcony. She sighed. "This is ridiculous." She glanced at the book, then tossed it into the alley. The rats would have far better use for it than she.
ÂThe night was clear. The cool breeze caressed her skin. Her nipples hardened. She raised her face heavenward. "Oh! Why couldnt they exist?!?" She leaned against the railing, now lost in contemplation. "I believe that they do," she continued softly. "For if not; Would they haunt me so? Invade my dreams, plague my waking hours? Gods help me! They must exist.
ÂAs if in answer, a sudden gust of wind blew open her robe and wrapped around her exposed body; swirling around her breasts, making her nipples harden anew. So hard they were almost painful. She threw her head back and gasped at the sudden chill. Then gasped again as pleasure shot through her body from this icy embrace. The wind died down. Her knees were weak, legs shaking. Her breaths came hard and fast. Her knuckles had turned white with the strength in which she gripped the railing. She pried her fingers loose. With a shock, she realized she was wet. Very much so. Confusion settled over her. She glanced once more up at the moon as she closed her robe around her, securing it tightly. Then, retreated back inside.
ÂPerhaps......perhaps this night, the Gods had heard her plea, had listened to her prayers.
ÂUnbeknown to her, however, the Gods had nothing to do with this night's amusements. A silent dark figure lounged on the roof directly above the balcony. "How interesting" he murmured; and was a bit surprised to find that his cock had begun to swell against the confines of his tight black pants. Of course he had heard her begging the night to bring her desire to fruition. But still. Why should this woman, this girl, this.
 He had stumbled upon her one restless night whilst prowling the city. She had been confessing her fantasies to the night. Believing that the Gods held her in confidence. Never realizing that she had made him privvy to her every desire. It was rather interesting. Out of curiosity, he had returned the next night. And then the next. Soon it became a kind of routine. He enjoyed watching her try to please herself. Though this was the first night that he had participated. And he had to admit; He was pleased with the affect his little parlour trick had had on her body. "mmm"; The thought of her naked body bared to the moonlight, the small yet full and supple breasts, her dark nipples, the strip of hair above her sex. He could still smell her arousal. His cock complained about its restraints. He smiled. Baring his fangs. A dangerous smile. One of dark promises and sweet seduction.
Â"I think that I will give the Gods the night off. Yes. Worry not, my pretty little human. Your prayer shall be answered. Though it will be I and not the Gods who will be doing the answering."
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