"Thank you mistress. After 11 hundred years I'm free and will grant you any desire as your reward."

Sarah couldn't believe her luck. She'd been searching the beach all afternoon for something nice to take home and just when she was ready to give up, she saw it.

A black bottle.

A globe was attached to the long stem that rose to a sealed end. The bottom of the globe was flat and the end of the stem was sealed with some hardened substance. The bottle was opaque and very shiny. It demanded attention.

Sarah searched for the perfect place to mount her new treasure and finally settled on the dresser in her bedroom. The perfect place where she would see it each evening before she went to bed.

She saw herself in the mirror that rose from her dresser almost to the ceiling. Her new bottle was in the mirror standing next to the naked woman. The woman who was Sarah.

She saw herself.

Warmth flowed from her loins to a secret place in her mind. The warmth said it was time. Time for pleasure and time for release.

Her hands moved to her breasts and softly touched the two firm globes. The fully erect nipples rose to touch her hands. She felt their hardness as her palms bushed over her tits. Her fingers squeezed and pulled the rigid landmarks and she watched their enjoyment in the pink circles they called their homes.

Sarah loved her body and it never failed to excite her. It wasn't failing now as her hands moved slowly down from her breasts to her flat tummy. One hand returned to minister to her now lonely boobs while the other continued its slow journey to the tiny patch of hair that highlighted the start of her pussy. Her hand moved between her legs and a finger found the track the formed between her labia.

She was already wet. She was ready for more.

Her hand wandered from one breast to the other. She touched and held and fondled and squeezed. She knew her breasts and gave them what they cried out for and she gave them more than that. She wet her fingers and captured a nipple between the two moist digits. She pulled and tortured the fully aroused center of her tit. She felt the sensation as a bolt of electricity racing to the hidden place in her mind. Her areola puffed and swelled to announce its happiness.

Her hand grabbed the prominence between her vee. She let her finger glide up and down the slit between her legs. The wet covering this secret place made movement so easy and so much fun. Her hand pressed down on her clit and the knuckle moved across the sensitive flesh raising her lust to a higher level.

She saw the bottle in her mirror.

Now she was on the bed. She rolled the cold smoothness of the bottle across her breasts. She let it trail down her tummy and wander into the patch of hair marking her pussy. The bottle seemed to guide her hands.

The stem moved between her legs and touched her pussy lips. She found the door to her cavern of passion and tried to get in. Her wet juices made it easy and soon the long stem of the bottle went slowly into her pussy. And then out. And then in. And then out.

Two hands on the bottle now. Faster, faster, faster. Something is ready to sweep over her body. More, more, more.

It came in waves and started with a scream. Her orgasm flooded her mind with an explosion of orange that blinded her from anything except what controlled her body and senses. An orgasm that lasted forever, but one that ended much too soon.

The Bookstore.

The clerk sat behind the counter; a prisoner of time and circumstances. She had no place to go. The clerk sat behind the counter and dreamed of many things.

"Miss, can you help me? I can't reach this book."

Her dreams ended and now to work.

"Let me pull the ladder over and I'll get it for you."

She climbed and wished she'd worn a longer skirt. She wished she'd worn pants and most of all she wished the woman wasn't at the foot of the ladder looking up at her exposure. She couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Is this the book you want?"

"Yes, yes. Bring it down for me."

How did it happen? The woman tried to help her down the ladder. Somehow her hands touched her legs and then they moved higher. Somehow she found herself on the ground with the woman's hands on her hips, her skirt pushed up around her waist. She blushed and her mouth wouldn't open.

"Oh excuse me, dear. I tried to help and don't know how that happened."

Somehow she got her skirt back in place. Somehow she didn't die of embarrassment. She wanted to say something, but her mouth wouldn't open.

"You're flushed, my dear." The woman touched her cheek very lightly. She seemed concerned. "You need to cool down. Why don't you undo a few buttons on your blouse?"

Her hands move to the buttons that secured her simple blouse. They seemed to belong to someone else. One button. Two. Three. What was she doing?

"I can see your bra so you better take it off."

She thought for a moment. She soon found a way to unhook the snaps and pull the flimsy garment through the sleeve of her blouse. Nothing was seen. What was she doing? Why was she doing this?

"You have such perfect tits. Take off you blouse so I can enjoy them."