Good, you believe me. That makes things a lot easier. And, no, you don't have to type, I can hear your thoughts.
That would be a dog. As I said, I am a ghost.
I know that, for the past several weeks, you have been trying to write a really good ghost story for that Halloween contest. I know that you are sitting at your computer at 3:00 am because you have one of your migraines - a really bad one - and you can't sleep anyway. And I know that after deleting - I think that was your fourteenth attempt at a story - you just said, "If I could just meet a ghost and interview him, the story would write itself."
So, here I am.
No, you aren't crazy, and no, you don't have to speak or ask questions or anything, and yes, I can hear your thoughts.
You wanted a ghost story for Halloween with erotic overtones that you could enter in the contest? I'll give you something better than that. I will give you "A Ghost's Story for Halloween."
My story definitely has erotic overtones, undertones, and highlighting, but let's start with a little bit about me. I've been here in the in-between for about 150 years. That's sort of middle-aged for a ghost. You people on the first-life side have all sorts of weird notions about us, so let me set you straight. I'm not trapped here. I can "go on" anytime I want. And I can come back to the in-between anytime I want. I just can't cross back over into the first-life side - except as kind of a shadowy mist that not everyone can see.
Most people go right on through from first-life to the other side and don't even pay any attention to the in-between, but some of us hang around here for a little while. We are actually a pretty nice bunch once you get to know us. Oh yes, there are some crazies and weirdos who give us a bad reputation with blood and gore and all that, but mostly people hang around here to watch over loved ones or wait for a spouse or child. Once in a while they stay in the in-between to try to seek revenge for wrongs done. And some of the time it's just the newness of it all and they really enjoy "misting in" every so often and scaring the piss out of someone they knew on the first-life side.
Actually, we really can't do much more than that. It takes a lot of effort just to mist in and as far as moving things, that really requires a lot of work and concentration or just the right circumstances. So for most people the in-between gets really boring... really fast. After a few months or years they go on to the other side and stay there.
So why am I here after 150 years?
To put it simply, I'm a pervert.
What does being a pervert have to do with me wanting to stay as a ghost in the in-between?
Again, it's simple. I am a voyeur. I like to watch things - sexual things - and that is the one thing that I can do better here than I could do when I was in first-life. Maybe someday I will get bored and move on and stay on the other side with the sunny days and clear skies and perfect people behaving perfectly, but for now, I enjoy watching imperfect people behave badly - sometimes very badly.
How am I able to write this story on your computer?
Like I said, it takes a lot of work or someone nearby has to really believe that I can do it. When you said you wanted to interview a ghost, you thinned the veil from your side for just a few moments, and since you had taken a break from writing to look at one of my favorite porn site, I was watching over your shoulder right when you said it. I was there when the veil thinned so I immediately took advantage of that little space of thin time and started typing.
Once you believed that I could do it, you supplied the energy of belief and it became a lot easier. You probably noticed that my typing sped up. That's the power of belief.
I'll let you in on a little secret. It ALL has to do with belief. If you believe in ghosts, ghosts can appear around you or even do more than that. If nobody there believes, we can't do squat - except watch, which, most of the time is OK with me.
Another little secret. There is nothing special about Halloween. Sorry to ruin all your ghoulish fantasies, but Halloween isn't a special time when the planets align or the sun and moon do weird things to the veil. Halloween is just like any other day... except that on Halloween, people believe in us more than at any other time of the year. It is that belief that enables so many of us to mist in or move things or in general have fun and cause havoc on Halloween.
There is something else we can do at lot easier on days like Halloween when so many people really believe in us. We can affect a person's actions. It takes a lot of power, but on Halloween there is a lot of belief power available to us.
No, we don't control people in a zombie-robot kind of way, but more like a "greatly influenced" kind of way. We push someone to become more of what they already are. We can make someone who is usually just an annoying jerk into a real asshole for the night, or we can make an angry person so angry that they will hurt someone, or we can make a lonely person so horny that they will screw anything they can catch. It's not that hard on Halloween. Just mist in at a party and get everyone to believe that a ghost appeared, and with that power surge you can do almost anything.
That's why Halloween parties are my favorites, especially now that Halloween seems to have become a time for nubile young girls to let their inner slut run free.
I used to have to go down to Mamma Mable's Whorehouse to see a woman dressed like most girls dress for Halloween. And you had to pay double to get one of Mamma Mable's girls to do half of what these girls will do on the first date. Believe me, I thought I had seen it all, but every year I see something that I had never seen before and some things that I didn't think were even possible. Ahh, I died many years too soon.
But enough about me. Let me tell you how I spent last Halloween. You know part of this, because you were there. I am the reason that Darla's party was so great. And you are the reason I was there.
I was actually on my way to a different party a little ways up the street when I saw you in your costume. I don't know where you got that antique scythe, but I know that you had to have made the rest of that costume yourself. No one sells a death costume that good. You had layers and layers of black gauze hand sewn over the velvet of the black cape and cloak. Then you had a couple of layers of the gauze over some black material covering your face so it looked like the hood was empty. Your hands had those tight fitting long, black gloves with some latex smears and gray and green spray paint lightly misted over everything so your arms and hands looked like dead flesh.
It was fantastic. It was one of the best Halloween costumes I have ever seen. But who in the hell wears that kind of a costume to a party!? That's a contest costume, not a party costume!
Come on, you can't dance. You can't eat. People can't really interact with you. Hell, with that voice changer you had under the face gauze, people couldn't even tell if you were a woman or a man. The only person who would ever wear something like that to a party would be.... Me! ... or someone just like me who goes to a party to watch, not to participate.
As soon as I saw you in that costume, I knew that you were a kindred spirit. So, I decided to go along with you to wherever you were going and see if I could cook up something worth watching for both of us. I also figured that if we were both trying to see something happen, I might be able to leverage your energy and really get something going.
Boy did I figure right on that one!
Do you remember when you first walked in and half of the girls there totally freaked out? You thought it was because your costume was so great. That was part of it. Don't get me wrong, you made a great costume, but I added just a little special effects to your entrance and that was what enabled you to really scare the crap out of them.
What I did was mist in just enough to hide the bottom of your robe. It looked like the robe ended short of the floor and people couldn't see your feet beneath the robe so people thought you were floating several inches in the air. Death herself couldn't have made a better entrance.
Shit, she is going to be pissed that I let that secret slip! Don't tell anyone that death is a woman. That gets her really upset and Death can be a real bitch when she is pissed at you. Somehow I manage to get her really ripped at me about every ten years or so. She's got a screaming yell that can break a mirror a mile away.
But back to the story... You made a great entrance and half the females there screamed their lungs out and two actually peed themselves. I heard you laughing at the one in the filmy ghost outfit that turned almost transparent with the flood of wet down the front. She really should have mowed the lawn or worn thicker panties under that white gauze.
They all had terrific screams, but it wasn't the scream I was trying for, it was the belief. When you came floating in, not only was there a huge scream, there was a tremendous spike in belief. For just a moment they believed that you were death, and that gave me all the energy I would need to make that party a night to remember. The fear was a bonus. All that fear pushed the energy spike even higher. I guess fear works a lot like belief, but the power from belief is much stronger than the power from fear.
With that energy spike, I could read your thoughts very clearly and I could hear enough of the thoughts of the others at the party that I knew as much as I needed to know about everyone who was there. And like I said, I can greatly influence someone to go just a little farther than they ever would go before, especially if I know their inner drives and weaknesses.
Your thoughts when you saw Debbie walk through the room told me that she likes to strut her stuff in her back yard in a very small bikini every summer. You liked to sneak around to peek over the fence at her in the late afternoon when she would loosen or even remove her top to try to get an all-over tan.
With a little peeking into her subconscious on my part, I knew for certain that she was a closet exhibitionist and, surprisingly, even deeper in the closet as a lesbian.
Because it was Halloween, she felt she was safe wearing something really daring to a Halloween party - sort of like she felt safe when she wore her small bikinis sunning in her own back yard.
Ah, you remember her outfit now, don't you. I can understand why the images of her from later crowded the memory of her outfit out of your memory. Remember, when you first saw her, she was wearing that she devil's outfit with a really cute, really short, red skirt with red satin panties under it. She had little red horns that clipped to her head with a red plastic headband thing, and she had her hair dyed a bright red to match the outfit. She had even used glitter hair spray so her hair glittered just like the horns and the skirt.
I did a quick scan of the room and found Tom. Tom wasn't hard to find. He is a real loud-mouthed lech, and his thoughts aren't any quieter than his mouth. It only took a little boost for me to get him to shout across the room, "Hey Debbie, bet you fifty dollars the collar and cuffs don't match."
Debbie later accused someone of spiking the punch, but that wasn't alcohol, that was me influencing her when she yelled back, "There's no cuff muff to match!"
The room was already dead quiet when Tom yelled louder than before, "Prove it!"
Everyone laughed as Debbie calmly walked over to Tom expecting her to say something to him or slap him, but then everyone gasped as she slid her bright red costume panties down her legs, stood in front of him with her feet placed well apart, and said, "See, no cuff, no muff, nothing to match. Pay up, loser!"
She stood their naked from the waist down holding her hand out while Tom fumbled to fish a couple of twenties and a ten out of his billfold. Staring at her now slightly shiny slit, he laughed and said, "I'll double it if you let me keep the panties."
The look on his face was priceless as Debbie took the money and his billfold out of his hand and calmly took out another fifty. She then handed Tom back his billfold and draped her panties over it. "They're all yours," she said brightly as she turned and began to walk into the other room oblivious of the multitude of soft clicks from cellphone cameras.
I don't know if anyone else saw you standing there in the corner in your death outfit. You had pretty much merged into the background by then, which is what you intended to do, but I saw you and I saw your hand go inside the robes. You were definitely enjoying my work. You enjoyed what happened next even more so. So did I.
Just as Debbie reached the door to the kitchen, I found another closet lesbian in the crowd. Marlys was a neighbor of Debbie's who secretly had the hots for Debbie and also used to spy on her in her back yard when she lay there in her almost a bikini. I gave Marlys a mental nudge and she yelled "Hey Debbie, I'll give you another hundred for the rest of that outfit and a chance to dance with you." Debbie paused in the doorway for just a moment and then sauntered back into the room and took Marlys up on her offer.
I don't use the word saunter very often, but that is the only way to describe how Debbie walked across that room. She was definitely strutting her stuff with each swing of her hips as she walked up to Marlys. She looked straight into Marlys' eyes as she stripped off the red blouse, skirt, and the thigh-high red stockings with the pitchforks on them and handed them to her. She then took the money from Marlys' hand and slid it and the hundred from Tom under the clip that held her horns.
Debbie was now standing there totally naked, looking like a stripper with her evening's tips tucked into a headband. No one said anything. A couple of flashes indicated that regular cameras had joined the cellphones.
Marlys just stared at her and drooled. Then shaking her head like she was coming out of a trance, she threw the red skirt and top over the back of the couch and stripped off her own naughty policewoman costume and added it to the pile. With both of them totally naked, she dragged Debbie into the middle of the dance area and pulled her into her arms.
I had nothing to do with that, but it was really something to watch as they both danced naked in the center of the room. When the music was fast, they really put on a show, and when the music was slow they clung to each other like a couple on their honeymoon. Debbie was so far gone with lust and exhibitionist excitement that all I had to do was to keep her from thinking too much about what she was doing. That wasn't hard at all since she had really wanted to do it all along, but just needed an excuse.
By letting herself feel that she was too drunk or something to notice or care she was able to stay naked except for her little red horns for the rest of the party. As a matter of fact, she walked home naked around 2:00 am. I followed her the four blocks to her house and let her get into front door before I fully released her as she was standing right in front of the floor length mirror in the entry hallway. I think that you could have heard her scream five blocks away when she looked at herself in the mirror and it sank in what she had just done.
What really upset her was not that she had stripped naked in front of all of her friends, or thrown herself at a neighbor she secretly lusted after. What upset her is that she had enjoyed it so much while it was happening and wouldn't have the guts to do it again. At least now, she could no longer deny that she was a true exhibitionist, not to mention the fact that she had significant lesbian tendencies.
Did you know that ever since that party, on Tuesday nights she waits until after midnight and then takes her garbage out to the curb naked - even in the dead of winter? I think she hopes that someone will catch her - especially Marlys. She always pauses and looks over at Marlys' house to see if there are any lights on. There never are because Marlys has watched her every single night and is sitting in the dark in the living room waiting for her to take out her trash.
In a way, I feel sorry for Debbie. She really wants to do something wild like she did at the party again, but doesn't have the nerve - unless maybe I catch her at another party. For now it remains a fantasy to which she get off almost every night while thinking that people are lusting over her like they were at the party.
Now that I think about it, lust must also give me some power. And we had it all, belief, fear and lust all on the same night - no wonder I was really on a roll.
What happened next? Ah, yes, James and Sierra.
You knew that James was really a wimp and had always seemed to do things to get picked on ever since he was in grade school. Even people who normally didn't bully someone would find themselves picking on James and wondering why they did. Most people didn't recognize the James was manipulating them into picking on him.
He had some sort of tunic on over jeans and a T-shirt that was probably supposed to be something out of some science fiction movie, but it was so badly done it could have been anything. He was capable of making a really great costume, but he intentionally chose to wear that and have people make derisive comments about it.
When he first caught your attention - and mine, he was over in the corner talking a little too noisily to Sierra, a mousy little girl in a pirate outfit who looked as much a looser as he did. Her outfit was also terrible. It was probably intended for a man because it had long, loose pantaloon legs with gold and black stripes on them and a vest that didn't work at all over her rather large breasts. She had probably worn sandals to the party, but was currently barefoot.
When I realized that several people were thinking the same thing about Sierra as you were thinking about James, I had a brainstorm. People who manipulate things to get picked on like James and Sierra had done, often do so because they actually like getting picked on. I could use that. James and Sierra probably had enough masochistic tendencies that all I had to do was push them a little and they would do something really stupid to humiliate themselves terribly and publicly.
They were arguing about a Star Wars movie of all things. She was saying that Darth Vader never told Luke that he was his father. He was almost yelling that Darth said "Luke, I am your father," right after he cut off Luke's hand in the light saber duel on Cloud City. It didn't take much at all for me to influence both of them so that they would get louder and more out of control. It was really easy. These two aren't attached very tightly to reality.
The argument kept getting louder and louder until Sierra finally screeched, "I'll bet you anything that you are wrong!"
James screamed back, "I would win. I know every line in that movie. I will bet you that I have the exact quote. Darth Vader says, 'Luke, I am your father.' What do you want to bet that I am right?"
People couldn't help but notice when Sierra got loud, but James yelled back loud enough that almost everyone in the room stopped their conversations and turned and look at both of them.
"I don't have any money on me," huffed Sierra.
"That's OK," answered James, "If you lose you can be my Leia slave for the rest of the party."
"I don't have a Leia costume."
"Then, you'll be my naked Leia slave." sneered James. Then he added, "And you will be totally naked like something from Lord of the Rings, no hair anywhere, not even on your head."
"In your dreams," snapped Sierra, "because you are going to loose. And when you lose I will have you naked and totally shaved at the end of my chain for the rest of the evening."
A little push and loudmouth Tom stepped up again, "I can settle this," he said. "All I have to do is look it up on my phone. Are you guys serious about this bet? If you are, the one that is wrong ends up naked and shaved right here, right now. You really want to do this?"
I was getting ready to throw in a big push when James and Sierra both yelled "Yes!" at the same time. They might have ended up at this point even without me.
Then James added with what he must have thought was a sexy leer, but looked more like a bad imitation of Groucho Marx, "I'll even loan her out and let her serve food and drinks for the rest of the night."
Sierra laughed and sputtered, "No way, Jamie boy, it is you that is going to be serving drinks as a naked slave."
Tom waved his hands for silence in the room. "OK. Then this is the deal. The one who is wrong ends up naked, shaved - no body hair at all - and helping serve food and drinks for the rest of the party. Is that the bet?"
Both James and Sierra nodded.
Tom did a few quick actions with his phone and then made a drum roll sound while pretending to pound on a snare drum in mid-air. Then in his best imitation of some TV personality, he announced, "And the answer is......... YOU'RE BOTH WRONG!. Darth Vader tells Luke that he is his father, but he never says, 'Luke, I am your father.' Darth tells Luke that Luke doesn't know the full story of his father and Luke says that Vader killed him. Vader responds, 'I am your father.'"
Tom pointed to Sierra and said, "You said that Vader never told Luke, so you are wrong." He then pointed to James, "You said you had the exact quote so you are also wrong. YOU ARE BOTH WRONG!!!" Turning his back to them, Tom shouted, "What should we do about that people?"
Almost everyone in the room started yelling "They both lost. They are both naked slaves for the rest of the evening."
I didn't have to push to get that one either. Things were going on their own now. This would have been a really great party even without me.
Tom yelled out, "Somebody get some clippers and a razor, we've got some shaving to do!"
Darla ran upstairs and came back a few minutes later with an electric hair trimmer, a couple of razors and two cans of shaving cream. "I cut off the hair," she said, "then the guys shave Sierra and the girls shave James."
Both Sierra and James stood there like they were in shock. Someone started unbuttoning Sierra's costume and in a few moments her pirate pants fell to the floor. When Tom saw her bright pink underwear with a well-known face right over her pubic mound he cried out, "Well, Hello Kitty!, nice to see you." Sierra started crying softly and slid her panties down to the floor without being prompted by anyone in the room, including me.
In the meantime, three of the girls had backed James into a corner and were pulling off his jeans. He had no underwear under them and it was soon apparent that he had almost no hair to shave off. He looked like a kid just starting puberty rather than an adult in his mid-twenties. Most twelve-year old boys have a larger penis.
The girls pulled him back into the middle of the room and started slathering shaving cream all over his body. "I haven't even gotten down there and he's already popped a woody," laughed one of the girls. Another added, "or at least a splinter, its so small." The third continued the laughter and added, "I think he gets off having to strip in front of us. Maybe we should see if he's into pain."
"Not part of the bet," said Tom, "but maybe you can take him home later and play with him in private."
Within a few minutes James and Sierra were both totally devoid of hair and clothing and were assigned the task of getting whatever food or drinks anyone wanted. A little while later both came walking back through carrying trays of food. The only hair on their body was their eyelashes. Even their eyebrows were gone. While they were in the kitchen, someone had squirted ketchup all over Sierra and mustard all over James. Both had a little dollop of mayonnaise peaked on the top of their heads so that they looked likes some strange entree that had escaped the table. Both had tears wetting their cheeks but Sierra's inner thighs were also glistening with her juices and James pitiful little wiener seemed to stay at attention for the rest of the evening. There was no doubt that they were true masochists and definitely turned on by the public humiliation.
I didn't need to push them anymore, they were flying solo, and as I said, Debbie was just a matter of not letting her think too much about what she was doing, so I decided to try one more thing while the energy in the room was high.
Tom was just too tempting a target and since this was Darla's party, and she had been awfully fast with the clippers and razors, I figured they could be my final targets for the evening. I sort of suspected that they had the hots for each other anyway.
About a half-hour after midnight, when everyone was starting to get pretty buzzed and mellow, I helped Darla get the idea that maybe she and Tom should go for a walk out back behind the garage by the pool. Not a difficult push since she seemed like she needed something from him anyway.
The pool was already covered for the winter and everything was put away, but the hot tub hadn't been winterized yet so all she had to do was pull the cover back on it and she and Tom were set. No one would have known what they were up to except for one minor detail. Because of a new city ordinance last year, Darla's husband had to install a motion sensor alarm in the pool area. Normally an alarm sounded at the pool as well as in the kitchen, the living room, and in the bedroom upstairs if anyone went inside the pool fence. Additional alarms sounded if something caused the water to move.
Those bells and buzzers were shut off now that the pool was securely covered. The secondary alarm, however, the one that switched the televisions to the security cameras at the pool was still turned on. All someone had to do to activate it was press a little red button in the kitchen that was labeled "Pool TV circuit."
Since you were going into the kitchen to see what was going on in there anyway, I sort of suggested to you that you might want to push that button just to see what it did. Nothing happened except that a little red light above the button came on indicating that the system was now active. So, when Darla pulled the cover off the hot tub and set it against the gate to the pool area, she triggered the alarms. Suddenly all of the televisions in the house were showing a four way split screen of the security cameras around the pool.
Three of the cameras were trained on the pool and showed nothing but a blue and white striped pool cover. The fourth camera, however, which showed the side fence of the pool, also included an almost full frame view of the hot tub and the area around it. The camera must have been mounted somewhere high because you could see most of the way into the tub itself.
Several men had been trying to watch something on the big screen TV in the basement rec room when suddenly the picture changed. A loud "What the hell is going on" was shushed down by a chorus of voices saying, "Keep quiet. Let's see what is going on here."
Soon everyone in the basement was watching in hushed silence as Tom and Darla kissed and fondled each other and then shed their clothing and climbed into the hot tub. The water was steaming in the cool air of late October, but neither of them seemed to notice. Soon they were generating as much heat as the hot tub. One of the men who was somewhat familiar with security setups like this one grabbed a remote from the table and moved the cursor into the hot tub frame. When he clicked enter, Tom and Darla were full screen on the big screen and every other TV in the house. In the full screen mode, there was audio along with the video.
Darla was saying, "No, no, in the ass, in the ass. I want you in my ass."
A voice from the recliner chair said softly, "Well, I guess her threat to divorce me over my working late with my secretary doesn't carry much weight any more."
Several men cleared their throats as they realized that David, Darla's husband had been downstairs the whole time. "Punch record," he said from his chair, "it will pick up the last half hour and keep going for another hour. I don't think they will last that long, though. I'll send you all a copy later if you want. I think Darla and I are going to be watching this together later. She is going to have to work hard to make up for this. This isn't a stupid shopping spree. One blow job is not going to buy her forgiveness this time."
One or two people left the basement, but most stayed staring at the screen as Darla and Tom thrashed in the water and both reached their orgasm together. After several more minutes in the hot tub, Darla stepped out and got a couple of towels from a small box next to the tub. As she and Tom dried off and put their clothes back on, the microphone picked up her almost whispered words, "We shouldn't have, Tom, but God I needed that." Shortly after that, they walked out of camera range back toward the house.
David was waiting for them as they came back into the house through the patio doors. Everyone was standing around in silence wondering what was going to happen. A couple of the men moved over to where they could protect Darla or at least keep David from doing something that would land him in jail. But the precautions weren't needed. As Darla and Tom entered the room, David said quite loudly, "Lets give the stars of the evening a round of applause." and started clapping his hands.
Darla's eyes went wide as everyone started applauding and she saw the image of the hot tub on the living room television. Tom made a hasty exit back out the patio door.
David leaned close to Darla and said just loud enough for people standing nearby to hear, "In the ass, in the ass, you will get it in the ass as often as I want from now on, won't you Darla."
Darla looked down at the floor for a moment or so and then looked back into his eyes and answered, "Yes, if that is what you want, David. I thought you considered anal sex dirty and if I asked for it you would think that I was sick for wanting it."
David chuckled and replied, "I thought the same about you. That was the only reason I was attracted to my secretary. She has a hot ass and knows how to use it."
David reached out and pulled Darla into his arms and hugged her close to him. "Is that what has been coming between us? You wanted something that you needed and you were afraid to ask me for it? And I wanted something sexual and was afraid to ask you? We really need to talk about what you and I can do in bed. We have a lot of time to make up for."
There was another round of applause. This time real applause. Sometimes it feels good to get my jollies and save a marriage all at the same time. Eat your heart out, Doctor Phil.
Well, it is going to be light soon, so I am going to have to be heading back to the in-between. No, there isn't anything that makes night better than day except that almost no one believes in ghosts in bright sunlight. Its not worth the effort to push the veil if no one will give you the energy to do something. Besides, there isn't that much that goes on in the daytime anyway and it's not like need to get a tan or anything.
In any case, you have your ghost story for Halloween now. It has been a real pleasure talking to you.
No, we can't do it again sometime.
No, there isn't any one-time rule or anything like that. It's just that there is... one other reason why I was been able to come through the veil so easily tonight. I wasn't planning on mentioning this, but that migraine headache you have been fighting for the last several months.... It's not a migraine. It's a pulsing aneurism and has already started to leak. It will rupture in just a few moments. There was nothing that anyone could have done for you, or I would have told you earlier. You've been sliding into the veil for several hours now. The truth is that when you started pushing into the veil, I recognized you from last year and that's why I came over in the first place. The fact that you were watching my favorite porn site is why I stayed. And then, you asked for the interview. Well, you know where it went from there.
You're pushing pretty hard against the veil now. We should meet face to face in just a few minutes. While you are still there in first-life and I can draw some energy from your belief, I'll email this to your friend "W." He can enter it in the contest for you. Maybe you can hang around with me for a while in the in-between and see if you win anything.
And since you are going to be here anyway - or at least passing through, you might as well stay for Halloween. I know where there are going to be some really hot parties this year. It's not like anyone is going to stop us at the door, but you can come as my guest and I will show you the ropes, so to speak. Just think of it as a free, live, high-quality porn site that you don't have to pay membership to access... if you don't count dying as a price of admission.
You're starting to fade pretty quickly now. I'd better send this while I still have the power to push the keys. See you on the other side.