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..I'm sorry to bother you, Joseph," she said meekly as she followed me to the kitchen. I'm sure she had no idea of just how she was bothering me. I studied her stocky, shapely body and pretty face, trying to fix the images in my mind. My eyes undressed her easily because she wouldn't look up and therefore couldn't see how I was looking at her."Here it is." There was a folder dealing with some church stuff and, when I found it, I remembered I'd been supposed to deliver it myself. Barbara looked up at me then, her eyes darting about. Timid like a rabbit, I thought. My mind wasn't on the folder and, awkwardly, I dropped it, the papers scattering over the floor."Oh...oh, I'm sorry," she apologized although I was the one who had dropped the folder and then she was on her hands and knees, retrieving the papers. I could see down the front of her blouse now as the loose fabric fell away. God. She had nice tits for her age."My fault, Barbara. It's OK. I can pick it up." And then I too was on. ” And so saying, she laid out the centuries old story; of betrayal, of the curse, of over eight hundred years of reincarnation. She talked of magic and monsters and lush mystical forests. And while rationally Imogen didn’t believe a word of it, she felt something inexplicable stirring deep within her, a yearning; an aching need. She quirked a challenging brow at them. “Okay, let’s pretend I believe you. Prove it.” Maccus gently took Imogen’s hand and activated the probe of his ring. He grazed the tip of it against the back of her hand, right above the knuckle of her middle digit. The chime echoed around the room and Imogen went ridged before sliding boneless to the floor, her body convulsing, then shifting and melding. Newlyn was mesmerized by the sight, and aroused. The nymph in her couldn’t pass this opportunity up. She dissolved her garments with her magic before kneeling beside Imogen as she was becoming. She leaned in and ran her lips and tongue across Imogen’s, her hands.
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