touch her

Hell, Joe knows how to make her move – one way or another. Embarrassment is a powerful thing. He leans forwards and touches her chest, brushing his fingers over her half- grapefruit-sized breasts. So soft, so exquisitely shaped. She is warm, so she can’t be dead. She’s playing with him.

But she is good: still, she doesn’t move. He trails his fingers down her chest, over her stomach, around to caress her soft behind. Round her hips, his hands move, for the first time touching the bare flesh of her thighs, then up under her t-shirt.

Still she doesn’t move.

“Ho ho!” Joe whispers breathlessly. He is so aroused right now, it’s unbelievable. He liked Vanessa. Maybe she liked him, too. Maybe he should have made a move on her the first time he’d been through school.

He touches her bare breasts under her t-shirt – she is wearing no bra. Still, she doesn’t react. What is she doing? It’s some game. Her breasts are so soft, like silk, the softest things in the world. Her little nipples do not harden, however, to the touch. Hmm.

He is curious, very curious, but as his mind struggles to work out what is happening, his cock drives forward his agenda, and he crouches in front of her, lifting her night shirt to get a look at her most private area. She is wearing a cute pair of pink panties, complete with a purple butterfly printed on the front. Her pubic mound is beautifully shaped, the delicate triangle tapering down, and Joe leans in to gently touch his face against her underwear.

Surely she must wake up now.

She doesn’t, though. He breathes in her scent – it felt so dangerous, so wicked, but it was so exciting. Her scent was so wonderful, so intoxicating.

But still, she did not move.

He pushed her panties aside gently, wanting to see her pussy, wanting to be close to something he’d wondered about so much during his first school years. It was so beautiful, soft and pink, her mound topped by a small triangle of gold. Exquisite. He couldn’t help but want to kiss it, slip his tongue inside her dainty folds, touch his lips to her little clitoris. And she tasted divine: sharp yet sweet, salty yet somehow fruity. She wasn’t emitting any juices, however, and she wasn’t reacting to his unauthorised contact.

Then he notices her digital watch.

It’s an ordinary cheap digital watch, but it seems to have stopped. The thing is, though, that digital watches don’t just stop. When the battery runs out, it fades, but the time readout continues as long as it is dark enough to read. Here this one is, though, with completely dark digits, but even the seconds read-out has stopped: 12:23:34.

What if she’s not sick. What if it’s time that’s sick? What if there’s something wrong with time? If time doesn’t roll onwards, there’s no way he could get a message to Bennett and the others. But then what would his message be anyhow? The experiment hasn’t been a success. Admittedly, it has produced interesting results, but that is not good enough for a project like this.

Somehow, he’s got to find a way to get time moving again. He has to do something that will somehow push himself back into the real world. If he doesn’t, perhaps he’ll go crazy – with loneliness if nothing else.