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The girl's right knee was bent with her right foot tucked just under her left leg. Her naked thighs led you to her exposed cunt. A wild patch of pubic hair crowned softly bulging lips - spread apart by the first two fingers of the girl's right hand. Helen's focus dimmed, her hand trembled, and she gasped as a mild orgasm shivered through her. The stale air of the vault filled with the strong scent of Helen's arousal. Mr. Williamson carefully took the photo from her hand and returned it to the box. That night Helen practically raped her husband."What was that all about?" her husband inquired afterward. "I needed it," Helen told him simply. Helen found that she needed it quite often. At first, her husband responded to her - gratefully, enthusiastically, vigorously and repeatedly. In time, his interest waned. Helen's did not. The photograph had enflamed something long dormant within her. Her comfortable life, at one time so safe and satisfying, now seemed leaden and mundane. She engaged. ”“Well I do.” Cyrilo hopped off the bed and began the long walk across the room to her study. “It didn’t smell at all like any of Urandil’s other work, so my first thought was that one of you was trying to pull something and I considered just throwing it out the window.” Grond followed her into her study and she jumped up onto the desk. “But I decided to be hopeful and try to identify it. I took a small sample to look at with the sunlight and the glass tube burst into flames. My hand and the table underneath were badly burned.” She shifted her gaze to a table near the window, now blackened. Beside the spot was the ceramic bottle containing the rest of the potion. “At that point, I was ready to believe that one of you was trying to kill me. With how much pain I was experiencing, I’m sure you can imagine how angry I was.”“It was all a mistake. He gave me the wrong bottle. He even sent other Harajin to warn me and retrieve it.” He approached the table and reached out for the potion.“I.
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