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Cherie and Marissa, both afraid to enter the house by themselves, brought psychics and investigators of every sort, even admonishing the ghosts of Simon and Sarah to make their presence known, but to no avail.The police theorized that the intruder or intruders had raped, then murdered Lynette and thrown her body into the sea. The case remained open, but eventually turned cold.Cherie and Marissa knew that the house, ie. Simon and Sarah, somehow held Lynette, either her physical or spiritual being, hostage and continued to defile her, night after night.But after exhausting every avenue without the merest sign of the lovely mother and friend, the two had accepted the fact they would never see Lynette Dennison again. Cherie went on to finish high school while living with Marissa but, eventually, the memories too hurtful and frightening, they moved to another state, were married, and made a life together, Cherie getting her college diploma four years later.The house had been up for sale. Our stares stayed fixated for seconds as she sat and I stood frozen interpreting the visual and aromatic stimuli. The sound of the barista setting my beer glass on the wood surface caused Sheri and I to look up. We smiled at the barista then Sheri and I reached for our glasses, toasted by clanking them together with neither of us saying a word verbally, leaving our eyes and attributes to express our lust. Sheri swiveled her bar stool until her front was facing mine. I placed my strong hands on her knees, slowly prying them outwards. The hem of Sheri's skirt crept up her legs exposing the flesh to her upper thighs. An invisible but tangible fog of Sheri's hypnotizing sex scent emanated from beneath her skirt to swirl around my head. Sheri extended her arms, placed her hands on my hips, then pulled me between her spread legs which positioned my bulge at the center of her torso and just below her voluptuous breasts. We were wrapped in an aura of lust so nothing existed externally.
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