Misc. Erotica The Problem With Immortality

Anson wasn't the only one thinking of that fateful encounter. Jennifer, in the East Wing, also realized the significance of Switzerland, and was also thinking of her first meeting with her husband of 311 years. Her hand started to work on autopilot, polishing a statue's erect penis back and forth, back and forth, as she thought of her first fateful encounter with Anson....

They had both been students pursuing graduate studies at the University of Geneva, he at the Life Studies Institute, she at the Music Conservatory, getting her Ph.D. in classical composition.

He had heard her perform at a concert. At the time, Jennifer had been playing the cello. Although she was one player of thirty on stage, she had immediately caught his eye. She had gorgeous chestnut brown hair, set off by her sparkling blue eyes. Her face was a mask of determination as she worked the giant cello, but also mixed in with her musical fierceness was a little smile on her lips. The other musicians were focused on their efforts; so was Jennifer, but at the same time she multitasked enough to also enjoy it. Her loving smile, her love of music, her love of life, inflamed Anson, even as he didn't quite know why.

Anson had never been one to believe in love at first sight. He had had girlfriends, and sex before, of course; many times, by the age of 28. But he had never looked at a woman and felt the immediate reaction he did when he looked at Jennifer.

He had to meet her.

At the after-party, he sought her out. She was talking to another woman, but that didn't matter. Anson made a bee-line for her.

She looked up as he approached. Suddenly, he realized he had no idea what to say.

She smiled at him.

Why did Jennifer smile at him? Anson was young. Anson was handsome, with dark brown hair, a masculine face, and light blue eyes. Why not smile at him?

The smile was all he needed.

"You were wonderful," were Anson's first words.

"Thank you," said Jennifer, feeling a chill down her spine.

"I loved your unique approach to the cello," said Anson.

"There were five others besides me on the cello, how could you tell?" she said, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

"You played with real feeling. Your cello playing had extra grittiness to it, extra musical texture."

Jennifer's jaw really dropped. She had been thinking the same thing. How had this handsome hunk known that? "Thank you..."

"Anson," said Anson. "Anson Ford." He extended his hand.

"Jennifer," said Jennifer, extending her hand. "Jennifer Spaulding."

When Anson took her hand, he felt electricity shooting through it. Then he bowed his head and kissed it, ever so gently. Jennifer's jaw dropped in shock and surprise.

Jennifer's woman friend, who Anson had paid zero attention to, smiled and said, "I think that's my signal to go. See you later, Jenny!"

"Jenny?" said Anson.

"To some," Jennifer said.

"To me, you will always be Jennifer," said Anson solemnly.

And the way that Anson said that made a chill go down her spine, in a way none of her boyfriend Andre's flirtations ever had.

They talked into the evening. At the end, Anson asked for her comm number.

"Anson... I don't know how to tell you this, but... I already have a boyfriend," said Jennifer. She recognized she had immediate chemistry with Anson, but... she was already taken.

"I don't care," said Anson immediately. "I want you."

"Aren't you listening? I'm seeing someone else."

"I heard you. But I still want you," said Anson. And he said it, not like a stalker, but a man, firmly in love. Jennifer could tell the difference immediately, and it floored her.

Jennifer, her mind in a daze, gave him her number, not sure what she was doing.

Anson commed her the next day. And the next. And the next after that.

Each time the answer was no. She couldn't, she simply couldn't! It wasn't fair to Andre.

But Anson kept calling.

Jennifer was exasperated. "I keep telling you no. How long will you keep calling me?"

"Until you say yes," said Anson.

Finally Jennifer agreed to meet him for coffee at a cafe. She was wearing a very loose blue dress, disguising her firm 34-B cup breasts on purpose, so she would not incite his lust. But she might as well have been wearing a transparent plastic bag. To Anson she looked gorgeous. Her dress perfectly matched the color of her eyes. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her, but he had to restrain himself.

Instead, they talked. Jennifer told him what brought her to a career in music. Anson was surprisingly empathic. He understood how Jennifer felt she could express her feelings through music. "You were great at it. Some day you're going to be one of the greatest classical performers on the planet."

"Oh, you're such a flatterer," said Jennifer, blushing.

"You will. You will be a tremendous concert pianist."

"Pianist?" Jennifer had only recently started taking up the piano, with just such an interest in mind. "How... how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you," said Anson.

That made her curious about this brash man majoring in Life Studies. She soon learned he was about to launch a career as something called a Fixer, someone who would solve the most difficult life problems for high-paying clients.

"But how? How will you do it?"

"Intuition," said Anson. "A fundamental understanding of people."

Jennifer looked at him with wonder. She realized how special he was. He had a talent that no one else had. And she was seeing him here, at the beginning of what she was sure would be a remarkable and famous career.

They talked long into the evening. But Anson didn't push things. Jennifer agreed to meet him for coffee again the next week, and then the next week after that. She didn't tell Andre. Obviously Andre would not understand.

But as Jennifer got to know Anson better and better, she began to see Andre in a new light. He was wonderful; he was training to be a classical composer; they had a lot in common; she had been in love with him for some time.

But next to Anson... her relationship with Andre started to feel... flat.

And then, one night, when Andre was making love to her, it happened. He was kissing her, hugging her, petting her, and then he got between her legs, and started the mating ritual that they both enjoyed so much.

But as Andre plowed inside of her, it was not Andre's face she saw, twisted in pain and pleasure above her.

It was Anson's.

The next time they met at the cafe, he must have seen it, in her eyes. Or maybe it was her dress. She wore a lower cut red dress, one that showed off the tops of her breasts. Just a little.

At the end of dinner (for they were eating meals together now, and yet Anson still had not asked for so much as a kiss), Anson asked if she would like to go dancing that Saturday.

"At the Grand Ballroom," said Anson.

The Grand Ballroom! "No," said Jennifer, shaking her head. "No... I...."

Anson put his hand over hers. He didn't say please. But his eyes did.

Jennifer felt herself getting wet between her legs. Biting her lips, she nodded.

Jennifer spent two days shopping for a dress. When Anson came to pick her up, he looked so handsome, wearing an old fashioned tuxedo.

"Jennifer," he gasped.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"You look... so beautiful," said Anson. Her dress sparkled in the light. It was white, and yet also had many strands of colors embedded in it, which changed depending on how the light hit it. And Jennifer had been bold enough to select one that showed cleavage. For the first time Anson could see the inner sides of her breasts. They looked soft and creamy. Jennifer felt thrilled whenever she saw Anson steal a glance at them.

They went to the Grand Ballroom. The orchestra, a real orchestra, was playing 18th and 19th century classics. Jennifer was a little nervous. She hadn't danced in a while. But in Anson's arms, she fell right into it.

She felt hypnotized by his smile. The entire world around them seemed to disappear, except for Anson, his smile, and his arms. His light blue eyes were like alpine lakes. She seemed to fall into them. The music seemed to be a bridge, a bridge for them to walk on, and Anson seemed to be escorting her across it. Hours passed, but to Jennifer it felt only like a few minutes.

It felt so natural to be in his arms. Looking into his gentle blue eyes, Jennifer shivered, deciding she never wanted to be anywhere else.

And then, outside, near the parking lot, by a stand of palm trees that were beautifully lit by yellow spotlights, Anson turned to her, and said, "You were incredible," and Jennifer knew the time had come, and she was so tremendously excited, and she smiled and leaned forward, giving implicit permission, and then Anson, ever so gently, pressed his lips against her, and the soft but insistent pressure of his lips was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt, feeling shooting pleasure from her lips to her vagina and beyond, down to her feet and toes.

When Anson took her home, Jennifer blushed, and heard herself say, "Would you like to... come inside?"

And Anson, as cool as ever, simply nodded and smiled.

In their frantic state of passion, there simply wasn't much room for foreplay. Within the space of a few minutes they were both naked, on her couch, kissing and touching each other all over. Jennifer couldn't get enough of him; his arms, his legs, his chest, his face, his lips, his light blue eyes, his grip around her, his kisses, everything about him.

And then she spread her legs in the oldest invitation in the world, and very shortly after that he was inside her, but slowly, ever so slowly, exploring the new world he had been invited into very cautiously, savoring every moment, every inch. And then, when he was totally inside of her, and he leaned down to put his face next to hers, he said, "I love you," and she said it back to him.

Anson moved in and out of her so adoringly. But while she felt it most in her vagina, she saw it most in his eyes. As her body jolted a little with every thrust, she looked deeply in his light blue eyes, and saw they were full of love, full of adoration, and what she saw in them did more to arouse her than any thick seven inch penis ever could.

Afterwards, when they were lying in each others' arms, Jennifer said, "Promise me one thing."

"Anything."

She gripped him tighter. "Never leave me."

Anson looked at her boldly. "Never."

And Anson kept his promise, for 311 years.

"Hey Jennifer, what are you doing?" said Wendy.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been smiling to yourself as you've been rubbing the same statue's penis for the past half hour. What are you trying to do, jerk him off?"

Jennifer, startled, noticed her hand rubbing the same statue's penis back and forth. She pulled her hand away.

"You were on Planet Nine, I could tell," said Wendy. "Were you getting in touch with your inner self?"

"No... not that," said Jennifer, hastily reddening, as she realized her nipples were hard and there was a certain wetness between her legs.

"Earth to Anson! Earth to Anson! Come in, Anson!"

"What?" said Anson.

"Have you heard a word I've been saying for the past hour?" Jessica asked.

They were both on their hands and knees, polishing some random hall in the West Wing.

"Sure," said Anson, resuming his polishing.

"Really? What was I talking about?" Jessica asked.

"Ahh....."

"I'm tired of this!" said Jessica. "We're now on our second day. We haven't gotten enough food, or sleep, and I'm exhausted. How much longer are we going to keep up this slave routine?"

"We're signed up for a week," said Anson. "You can't expect to connect to your inner self in less than two days, can you?"

"My inner self is hungry, Anson! And tired!"

Dinner that night was as depressing as the night before. The monks and nuns all had delicious dinners, while they had celery sticks and two crackers.

"How long do you expect us to survive on these starvation diets?" Jessica demanded to know.

"You are purging your system of excesses," said Brother Roy.

"Well, at this rate, I am not going to have much excess left," Jessica said, pinching the skin around her ribs.

"I can already see progress," said Brother Roy soothingly.

"You can?" said Jessica.

He gave her a chilling stare. "The inner beauty in you is starting to emerge. Your inner self is taking shape. Soon, your inner self will be self apparent. It will be a tremendous revelation for you, and you will delight in sharing it with us all." His voice was dark, and cold, and foreboding, and his face was expressionless.

"I will?" said Jessica, listening to the message, and not the messenger.

"Yes," said Roy, smiling gently at her. It was like the smile of a corpse.

But matters only got worse that night. After two days of hard labor, even Jessica was too worn out for sex. She and Anson collapsed in their beds at 9 PM, lights out....

...to be awoken at 1 AM.

"What?" What's happening?" Jessica asked, as a different monk, not Brother Roy, banged on all the cell doors.

"It is time to start the night shift," said the new Monk. Brother Daven, his name was.

"Night shift?" said Jessica. "There must be some mistake. "We've just worked all day. We've only had four hours of sleep."

"You must cut back on your sleep. Sleep confuses and clouds. You are like a block of marble. We must cut away all the extraneous parts--all the extra calories, all the extra sleep--and set you to mind-clearing labor which will connect you to your true self," said Brother Daven.

"I don't know if I can do this," said Jessica, feeling groggy.

"Come on, Jessica, you want to be a Fixer, don't you?" said Anson, who was feeling all too tired himself. "If you want to play with the big boys, you have to be tough."

"All right. But for the record, I think this is a bad idea," said Jessica.

Anson wasn't sure what he thought of it. Fatigue had started to cloud his mind. The monks of Ju Chi had taught him techniques to draw back the fog, but that only lasted for short periods. He was fast running out of energy. But there were so many testimonials to the rejuvenating power of Schlong Aus; Anson felt it he owed it to his client to give it a full try.

In the East Wing, Jennifer and Wendy were far less sure of this, and Chelsea and Ambrosia McGyvers were even less sure than Jennifer and Wendy.

"We've only had four hours of sleep, and you want us to get back to work? Forget it!" said Chelsea.

"Of course, the choice is always yours," said Sister Janice. "If you want to leave, just say the word."

"No Chels," Ambrosia said. "It's only a week. Let's stick with it and see if we can get anything out of it."

"All right," Chelsea mumbled, only half awake.

They stumbled like sleepwalkers to their work assignments, polishing floors and dusting walls. The East Wing never seemed to run out of dirty walls or floors.

They worked through the night and into the morning, only taking a short break for their very brief "breakfast", before being sent back to work.

When the girls complained that their arms were too tired to polish, they were told to walk in circles around the East Wing.

"In circles?" said Wendy incredulously.

"The point is to keep the body constantly moving, constantly in a state of physical agitation," said Sister Janice.

"My mind is already in a state of mental agitation," said Wendy.

"Good. You're making progress."

They stumbled around like sleepwalkers, leaning against each other for support as they walked around the West Wing. More than once they had the urge to sit down and rest; if they sat down for more than a moment, even on the cold hard floor, they would fall asleep. But a monk or a nun was always watching them, and always kept them moving.

"Please," Jennifer cried. She felt exhausted. "I just need to rest. Just for a minute!"

"You're getting closer to your inner self," said Sister Janice, with real excitement in her voice. "I can feel it. Keep going, Jennifer!"

And Jennifer kept going.

Sister Janice smiled. Jennifer was making excellent progress. Soon she would be ready.

But as it turned out, the other pair of girls, Chelsea and Ambrosia McGyvers, were ready first. Sister Janice saw it in their faces, the total exhaustion, the flatness of their expressions. They were ready! She approached the two sisters and gave them a big smile. "Ladies, you've been doing well. I think you are very close to exposing your inner selves. Would you like a brief meditation period in the Abhor?"

Meditation! That meant sitting, and eyes closing, and... sleep!

"Yes! Yes! We want meditation, we want it!" they said, almost as one, desperate for sleep.

"Come with me," said Janice.

"Wait, what about us?" Wendy asked.

Sister Janice smiled at them. "Your time will come soon enough, child."

Having given their arms a rest when they did laps around the East Wing, Jennifer and Wendy had been put back to work scrubbing floors again. They had to keep working or else they would fall asleep, they were so tired.

"Why do you think they chose them?" Wendy asked.

"Don't know," said Jennifer groggily. "Perhaps they are closer to finding their true selves."

"Those spoiled brats? Come on," said Wendy. "I tell you, Jennifer, it's day three and I can barely keep my eyes open. I don't think I can stick it out a week here."

"I'm not sure I can either," said Jennifer. "Let's just give it two more days, and if we don't see any benefits, we'll go, all right?"

"I'll try," said Wendy.

They continued polishing. Before long, they heard chanting sounds. It was monks. They were singing, some kind of chant. Their voices sounded beautiful, though they couldn't make out the words.

The chanting continued for a while, close to an hour. And then it stopped. Soon after Chelsea and Ambrosia returned to them. They seemed to be in a daze, even more so than the sleep deprived Jennifer and Wendy.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked. "How was the meditation? Did you find your inner selves?"

"Yeah," said Chelsea. Her eyes looked glazed over.

"You girls did wonderfully," said Sister Janice, and she was smiling broadly now. "You took the first step on the road to finding your true selves. Sit now and polish the floors and reflect on what you've learned." She turned and left.

"What was it like? What happened?" Wendy asked.

"I don't know," said Chelsea. "Amb, do you remember?"

Ambrosia strained to focus her eyes. "We were in a room... with beautiful green candles...."

"Yes, and then?"

"I don't remember," said Ambrosia.

"I don't either," said Chelsea. "But we must have touched our inner selves! We must have! Maybe this was like breaking a barrier. Maybe next time we'll remember more."

"Yeah," said Ambrosia, wincing suddenly as she put a hand between her legs.

"What is it?" Chelsea asked.

"Nothing. Just a bit sore down there," said Ambrosia.

"Me too," said Chelsea. "I think all this bending down to clean things has caused me to pull a muscle down there."

After Ron Fielding and his wife Anna were called away for meditation in the West Wing, Anson and Jessica heard the chanting of the monks. It was beautiful, but they couldn't make out the words. The chanting went on for some time; after it ended, Ron and Anna returned to them.

"How was it?" Anson asked.

Ron looked dumbfounded. So did his wife. Like she was in a daze.

"They have come face to face with their inner selves. The first time is always a shocking experience," said Brother Roy.

"What happened?" Anson asked again.

Ron didn't answer.

Brother Roy said, "They are still processing. Work now, my friends. Talk later."

But when Ron was finally able to talk, he couldn't recall anything that had happened. All he knew is that he was taken to a room with green candles that gave off an odd smell. After that, he remembered nothing. But it was wonderful, and he and Anna wanted to experience it again.

"We must have touched our inner selves," said Ron. "Do you feel differently, Anna?"

"I feel sore," said Anna, rubbing between her legs and frowning.

"From all the work we've been doing," said Ron.

"No, not that kind of sore," said Anna.

That evening, after their non-dinner, Jessica served notice. "Anson, I'm starving to death, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm going to give this one more day. If there are no results tomorrow, I'm out of here."

"Whatever you want," said Anson. He was too tired to argue with her. The lack of sleep and food was making it difficult to think.

On the morning of the fourth day, after they had been laboring all night, Brother Roy looked at Anson and Jessica. They both looked very tired. But Jessica looked mentally exhausted, through and through. She was ready.

"Come child," said Roy, taking her by the arm.

"Where are we going?" Jessica asked.

"To meditation. To find your inner self. You are ready."

"It's about time!" said Jessica. "Wish me luck, Anson!"

Anson smiled after her, as she was led off.

He turned to the McGyvers girls. "What's going to happen to her?"

"Something wonderful," said Ambrosia, with a smile.

Jessica was taken to the Abhor. It was a beautiful room featuring sculptures and mosaics and a skylight made of different shades of glass which cast colors everywhere, and a beautiful fountain in the middle which the sound of twinkling water. There were brilliant green candles everywhere, and a strange aroma in the room.

"Rest here, child. Self-actualization is only steps away," said Brother Roy, and he left her.

Jessica immediately fell to her knees against a pillar and went into a semi-dream state. The air was thick with the aroma of the candles. It smelled strongly, almost familiar... kind of like Weed. Jessica breathed it in. She started to feel dreamy. Her muscles and mind started to relax.

She might have been like that for minutes, or hours. There was no way to tell. But then Brother Roy returned at some point, and he was putting a spoon into her mouth.

Jessica instinctively swallowed it. It tasted like cranberry sauce, taut and bitter. "What is it?" she gasped, opening her eyes.

"It is ambrosia of the gods," Brother Roy smiled.

Suddenly, Jessica heard the sound of chanting.

"It's so beautiful," said Jessica, feeling like she was riding on a cloud of song.

"Yes, it is," said Brother Roy, giving a terrifying smile. "And now, I think you are ready. Come," said Roy. He pulled her by a hand. Jessica felt as pliant as a child's helium balloon.

She was pulled into another room where monks were in a circle, chanting. She heard the chant, but didn't understand the words.

The circle parted to show a horizontal slab, padded with some kind of cloth.

Brother Roy reached over and pulled off Jessica's robe. She felt like she were in a dream, only able to watch. He positioned her over the slab and had her lie down on her back.

"What is this? What's happening to me?" Jessica asked.

"You are going to gift us with your inner self," said Brother Roy. "Brother Daven?"

Brother Daven removed his robe. His penis was firm and erect. He climbed on top of Jessica, and spread her legs.

"What... what is this?" Jessica asked, barely about to process anything.

"This is what you have sought after most highly," said Roy. "Begin, Brother Daven."

Brother Daven lifted Jessica's pliant knees, to provide him with the appropriate angle he desired. And then he reached down and gently inserted his penis into her vagina. Very slowly, he started to thrust into her.

The monks continued to chant as Brother Daven thrust into her.

"This is the greatest experience of your life," said Roy. "You feel like you are meeting your true self."

"My true self," Jessica babbled, feeling like she was in a dream of living color and wondrous sounds.

Brother Daven thrust more rapidly within her, back and forth, back and forth. Jessica, her head rolling back and forth, was barely aware of what was going on. In moments his efforts grew more intense, and his breathing became hard. Soon he gasped and cried out, and filled Jessica with his brotherly cum.

"Aaaah ooooooh Aaaaaah," the brothers chanted.

Brother Daven climbed off of Jessica, put on his robe, and resumed chanting with the others, even as a new Brother took off his robe and climbed on and mounted Jessica. She felt a second penis entering her vagina.

"You feel so filled," said Brother Roy.

"Ahhh..." said Jessica, with a big smile, her mind totally spaced out. All the colors! All the sounds!

"You feel so filled," Brother Roy repeated. "Say the words, Jessica."

"So filled," Jessica mumbled.

As the new brother banged into Jessica, her body shifted back and forth.

"You will want to do this again and again," said Roy. "You will not remember anything that happened here, but you will want to stay here, and do this again and again and again."

"Again and again," Jessica mumbled, her head rolling this way and that, her mind in a complete and utter fog as her body continued to jolt every few seconds from thrusts of the second monk's penis.

The other four monks around her continued to chant.

And to wait for their turn.

"And you will remember nothing of what has happened here," said Sister Janice, as she rubbed her nude body against Wendy Spanberger, in a different chamber in the monastery. Wendy, out of her mind from the combination of fatigue, the smell of the green candles, and the mystery substance she had just been fed, was in no position to resist.

"Repeat that, please," said Janice, as she rubbed expert fingers against Wendy's nether lips, stretching them wide as she grinned wickedly.

"Remember... nothing," said Wendy dumbly.

Sister Janice reached over and strapped an electronic double edged dildo onto her waist. She gave a gasp of pleasure as she slid one end into herself. The other end pointed outwards. She aimed it at Wendy's spread vagina.

"You want to show me your inner self, don't you?" said Janice. She squeezed Wendy's breasts. "Don't you, Wendy?"

"Inner... self... yes...."

"Your wish is my command," said Janice. She moved the tip of the dildo into Wendy's vagina. Wendy moaned. Janice slid the rest in, not slowly, but fast, as fast and as hard as she could. The monks circled around them started to chant louder.

Wendy's eyes widened. "Pain!" she gasped.

"The pain of discovery," said Janice, vigorously working the dildo in and out of Wendy, clenching her own ass cheeks every time she thrusted. "The pain of self-actualization."

Wendy moaned as pain started to turn to pleasure. Janice was feeling it too. Every time she thrust into Wendy, she felt pressure as the end of the dildo inside of her which thrusted equally in the opposite direction. Additionally, the electronic dildo had a complementary nerve stimulator; whatever Wendy felt, Janice also felt. As Wendy started to experience pleasure in her vagina, it was fed inside of Janice, making her groan with delighted as she initiated Wendy into the mysteries of her inner self.

As Janice thrust harder and harder, she felt all of Wendy's pain, and all her pleasure. The Nun's nipples instantly hardened. "That's it, my child, " said Janice, thrusting as hard as she could, as the monks around them started to chant faster. Her hard green eyes stared into Wendy's uncomprehendingly hazel ones, her face a mask of rage and raw need for domination as she pushed again and again inside of Wendy.

Wendy felt totally befuddled, all her senses completely assaulted. All the lights! All the colors!

"You will remember none of this, but want to do this again and again. Say it," Janice commanded, as she moved into Wendy, going forwards, and backwards, forwards and back.

"I will remember none of this, but want it again and again," said Wendy, as Janice kept up their essential rhythm.

"This is your highest calling, your self-actualization, and you want to stay here forever." Janice smiled as she saw Wendy's titties jolt in every direction when she banged into her.

"My highest calling... want to stay here forever," said Wendy.

Janice thrust into Wendy as hard and as fast as she could. Wendy moaned in pleasure and pain, and Janice felt every sensation through the electrodildo. In seconds Janice was spasming, coming, the best orgasm she had had in days, even better than Ron Fielding's delectable wife, who she had taken the day before.

"Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh!" the monks chanted, along with her.

"So what happened?" Anson asked, when Jessica was returned to him.

Jessica was in a daze.

"Jessica?"

She turned, noticing him for the first time. "It was wonderful!"

"What was it?"

"I don't know, Anson, but it was incredible! I have to do it again!" Jessica declared.

"You don't want to leave?" Anson asked.

"No, why would I want that? I never want to leave," said Jessica

"Never?" said Anson. "Just a short while ago, you were telling me you wanted to leave right now."

"We must stay, Anson," she insisted, with a hard gleam in her eye. "Once you expose your inner self, you'll see. You'll never want to leave, Anson."

Anson looked over at the girls, Ambrosia and Chelsea, who both nodded their agreement, giving dazed smiles as they polished the floor around them.

"It was the most wonderful thing," said Wendy dreamily.

"What was it?" Jennifer asked excitedly.
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