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Sky high. There had been rumors that he used some sort of weird drug cocktail to enhance his performance. Not that there was anything wrong with his normal performance, but because he wanted to juice it to totally unreal levels. Anyhow, there he was, standing by her table after the show, glassy-eyed, and a bit unsteady on his feet. "Grab onto my arm and I'll help you," she said.Lisa just happened to be in full body-armor that night. On the outside, butch -- totally butch -- in a hardened drag-king outfit that gave her the look of a wannabe-tough punk dude with slight fem overtones. Underneath, breasts plastered down by elastic stretchy stuff and hips flattened by a wire-reinforced corset band. She even wore (just in case!) her fave dildo with its base firmly socketed inside her woman-hole. It made a nice bulge where the legs met on her skin-tight pants. "Nice," Gold whispered hoarsely, staring straight down at her crotch."My place or yours?" she asked. Her faux-masculine voice. We kissed passionately as long lost lovers, our tongues playing together between lustful biting of lips. Our hands explored each other’s bodies while we done so. I squeezed her large tits and pinched her hard nipples, causing her to moan into my mouth. I grabbed her juicy ass with both hands and pulled her body hard into mine, ensuring she could feel how hard my cock was. After some time she reluctantly broke away from our kissing. She looked at me and said “Come to my bed” a sweet pleading smile on her lips. “NO!” I replied sternly. “Get on your knees” I commanded. “What here?” she replied as her gaze shifted beyond me to the still open front door of her house and the night beyond. “Yes” I answered. “But..” “Do as you’re told” I commanded as I cut her words short. She looked at the seriousness in my eyes and her submissive need to please me kicked in. She sank to her knees on the cold hard floor of the dimly lit porch. Knowing not to speak and just do as she was told, she dutifully.
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After so many years instead of fading, her image became ever stronger to him. Like a painting that you see every day, her face her body now seemed to be etched into his very being! He laid back in the bed, wet and cold from his sweat. He recalled to his memory the night so many years past. Way to much to drink, trying to keep his footing, talking to himself as he made his way home. He had tried to remember what caught his attention first, was it the scent that had drifted and mingled around him, the heavy smell of wet leaves mixed with the earth, at first not pleasing to him, but as it swirled around him it brought to him such erotic feelings as if being caressed by a thousand hands. The music yet not music high on the tree tops, so sensual so light so alluring. Maybe it was the music that made him turn and look, not even sure why it matters, not even sure to this day if what he thinks he saw was really what he saw. The cemetery was dark, the one street lamp casting a dim yellow glow.

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