The Stir of Echo

by Susan Gabriel

  Boards creaked beneath her feet as she padded along the hallways inspecting the darkened rooms. The house was eerily quiet, too quiet for Echo's liking.

  I'm going to have to get a cat, she thought. The silence around here is deafening.

  Despite six months of vacancy, the household appeared as if the previous owner had just stepped out on an errand. Linens, toiletries, pantry items, everything had been left in perfect order.

  The kitchen was spacious and bright, much more pleasant than her one bedroom walk-up in the city. She located the necessary items to brew a cup of tea. A cup of tea in a Victorian, how quaint, she chuckled.

  In her wildest dreams Echo had never thought she would be living in the ‘burbs, and drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but life is a funny thing, she admitted.

  Giving a little hop, she sat on the counter and raised the cup to her lips. Breathing deeply, she filled her nostrils with the soothing scent of chamomile. She wearily rested the back of her head against the white painted cupboard. Echo allowed her mind to drift: unpacking, changing the utilities to her name, opening a bank account, registering her car, her new neighbor, Flynn. An unconscious grin appeared on her face. Thinking of her hot new neighbor seemed more preferable right now than the other mundane tasks demanding her attention.

  She needed to assess him awhile and consider whether or not he was going to be playing the starring role in her next fantasy Jill-off session. She recalled his wry smile and the twinkle in his eye, and the way it caused a guilty, feverish feeling to rush over her. She especially liked the way he said her name, not pronouncing it with a harsh “eh” sound, but drawing it out softly ... “Aayko". That could come in handy in a fantasy.

  He oozed the confidence of a guy who had a big cock and knew how to use it. I wonder if he has a big cock. Hmmm, I'd bet my next paycheck that he does.

  Had he been flirting with her or was he just the overly friendly sort? Either way, he'd made a lasting and lust-inspiring impression. Echo recognized a warmth crawling around inside of her that had nothing to do with the chamomile tea.

  She started to feel a little neglected. It had been ... well, it had been a long time since she'd been laid. Echo squeezed her legs together and wondered what Flynn was like between the sheets.

  The wind picked up outside. Barren, skeletal tree branches scratched against the kitchen window like ghostly fingers clawing at the glass. Startled, Echo awoke from her reverie. Placing her empty cup into the sink, she slid off of the countertop and landed with a soft plop on the linoleum floor. The temperature of the room had dropped to a chilly degree. She shivered and chattered her teeth before extinguishing the light.

  Briskly rubbing the cold from her arms she climbed the wide, wooden staircase that led to the second story. When she swung open the bathroom door an ancient radiator hissed angrily in the cor ner. A caver nous claw foot bathtub beckoned.

  "Sweet!” she exclaimed. “Let's see if the folks left some candles stashed around here."

  Finding a box of candles in the vanity, she turned them over.

  "Well, peace, love and understanding,” she laughed, “Patchouli!"

  Echo lit them, placing them one by one around the room. The earthy aroma wafted in the air. She turned on the tap, testing the water with her fingers. As the bathtub filled with hot water, vapor enveloped the bottom half of the room in a dense fog.

  She undressed before the full-length mirror, critiquing herself. She was vain, but had good reason to be. Her ginger hair cascaded in natural waves that tickled the base of her bare shoulder blades.

  I could use a trim, she criticized, twisting her body to view the back of her hair.

  Her legs lean and toned from years of Yoga practice, stretched up from the floor, and traveled to her firm, rounded bottom. Echo placed her hands on her flat stomach. She blinked at her reflection. The twin pink buds of her C cup breasts stared enticingly back at her.

  If nobody loves ya, guess ya gotta love yourself. Echo lightly circled the palms of her hands over her erect nipples, pausing to tease each with a fingertip. “I can give you what you don't yet know that you need.” There it was again. The voice, muffled but discernable, rudely interrupting her fantasy.

  Really, mused Echo. Unless you can deliver that delicious neighbor of mine into my bed, I seriously doubt that you can give me what I need right now. I'd like a few moments of privacy, so beat it, will ya?

  Testing the bathwater with her toes, Echo determined it to be to her liking; not too hot to be uncomfortable, but just temperate enough that she would have to gingerly ease her body into the bathtub.

  After acclimating herself to the steamy water, Echo reclined against the cool porcelain. It was time to choreograph her fantasy.

  The candles flickered in the moonlit room. Echo squirted viscous drops of perfumed gel, watching them sink into the holes of a yellow sea sponge. Her hands, slick with the syrupy mixture, stroked the sponge leisurely along the length of her neck. Above the waterline, her breasts bobbed buoyantly in the chilly air. Echo massaged the fragrant gel onto her breasts, drifting into a carefully orchestrated fantasy scenario starring her new neighbor, Flynn.

  She visualized him standing over her, leering at her in a most lecherous way, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a sweet six-pack. In her mind's eye he watched her bathe, telling her what to do and how to do it ... and she did each thing he commanded.

  "Oh, lovely lass,” she imagined him saying, “That's it, touch yourself. Work the soap over your breasts until they glisten."

  Echo deposited the sponge into the water and rubbed the slippery gel onto her aching tits with her fingers, kneading them tightly against her chest. Her breasts were magnificent, heavy, round and ultra responsive to touch.

  "Very nice,” her fantasy Flynn encouraged. “Now show me how you excite those mouthwatering nipples."

  Echo rolled her buds between her wet fingers, squeezing and tugging the tightening nubs until they rose from her breasts like firm, pink gumdrops. Echo's hips writhed beneath the water, her buttocks tightening and tilting her pelvis upward in supplication.

  This wasn't going to take long. Echo knew her body like a well-read roadmap. She knew the time-saving short cuts as well as the more leisurely scenic routes.

  She settled deeper into her vision.

  "Hmmm, are you stirring yet? Do you recognize that aching in your pussy?” Flynn prodded. “Search below the water Echo, to the soft down between your thighs where it's warm and luscious."

  Echo glided her hand down her stomach and crawled her fingers over her dewy mound until her fingers encountered the lubricious fluids of her arousal. She envisioned Flynn kneeling near her, his breath tickling her ear as he watched her pleasure herself. His sonorous voice urged her onward.

  "Spread your legs. I want a peek at your sweet pussy."

  Echo draped her legs widely over each side of the bathtub. Warm, soothing waves of water lapped enticingly at her cunt. In her mind's eye she conjured the image of Flynn's cock springing to life as she opened her legs for him.

  Echo's breath came faster now. Her breasts rose and fell with each deep inhalation of the scented air. She squeezed her eyes tight, her fingers encouraging the blossoming sensations of orgasm. When she traced small circles around her clit, it swelled with delight beneath her touch. She swiped her folds with her fingertip, picking up more lubrication and swirled the slick juice over her throbbing button until her pussy ached with emptiness. She wished she had unpacked her favorite eight-inch toy, but no matter.

  She pushed two fingers of her left hand inside of the dewy folds causing a small, breathless “Oh” to escape from her throat. Savoring the sensation of partial fullness, her strong vaginal muscles tightened around the probing fingers as she worked them deeply into her pussy

  In her vision, Flynn stood up and eased his swollen prick into her mouth. It tasted so good. It was huge too ... monstrous. He rocked it in and out of her lips. She matched the imagined rhythm of his thrusting with her
fingers. Her legs shuddered and gripped the porcelain, raising her hips. Close, she was so close to orgasmic release. A little more pressure on her craving clit and she would be there.

  "Stop! You wicked little vixen, stop that right now! You don't come until I tell you to!"

  A draft whistled through the leaky wooden window, extinguishing the candles and leaving Echo in darkness.

  Echo opened her eyes, returning to reality. What the hell? That wasn't supposed to be in my fantasy!

  She pouted in the blackness, the only illumination coming from the glow of the waning moon. She mumbled irritably, “God, I'm pathetic! I can't even Jill-off without being disappointed."

  Echo hurled the sea sponge across the bathtub. It split the water's surface sending foamy droplets splashing onto her face. The spell was broken. Feeling foolish and embarrassed, she pulled her legs inside of the bathtub in defeat.

  Later in the unsettling quiet of her bedroom, she drifted into a restless sleep.

  In a deep state of dreaming, she wandered over an unfamiliar land. Drought-cracked earth stretched for miles in every direction. The barren landscape was dotted with the blackened corpses of long-dead trees. As she walked, the crunch and snap of the parched ground crackled in the still air.

  With each step, the earth beneath her bare feet crumbled and broke away, falling soundlessly into a dark abyss. Scrambling to stay one step ahead of the crumbling earth, Echo frantically searched the lifeless horizon for a safe haven. Far in the distance, she spotted an immense rock formation, rising from the arid ground like an ancient monument. It stood red against the white-hot sky, its surface jagged and steep as if hewn by some great sword. Its time-worn face seemed solid and secure, strangely out of place in this fragile environment.

  Blood pounded in her veins, as she raced with breakneck speed towards the protection of the rock formation, raining clods of pulverized earth into the colorless void.

  She didn't dare stop or look back, only pressing onward until breathlessly she flung herself onto the cool, hard surface of the rock base.

  Clinging to the stone, she looked backward. The path she had run was now a bottomless crevasse that split the earth in two. No matter what lie ahead, she could not go back the same way that she came.

  Echo pulled herself up to a jagged ledge, the flint-like rock lacerating the tender pads of her fingers. Perhaps if she could get to the top, she might be able to view the land from all angles and find a way out of this horrid place. With resolve and determination, she climbed to the next ledge and the next. The sun burned hotly against her fair skin as she searched for footholds on the steep surface. As she ascended, patches of deep green moss sprung up, cooling the soles of her feet. A dense cloud obscured the top of the formation. From here, Echo could feel its misty dampness on her face. She must be close now. The promise spurred her onward and she found the strength to pull herself onto a smooth outcropping, where she rested for a moment, quenching her parched flesh in the cool vapor of the cloud.

  Her eyes searched the endless sky for signs of life ... a bird, an insect, anything that would tell her that she was not alone. But the sky only mirrored the emptiness of the landscape below.

  Echo examined her hands and knees, scraped and bleeding from her climb and wondered how she had come to such a forsaken place. If only someone would come along and tell her what to do ... which direction to go. But there was only one direction left—up. Echo stood on the ledge, tilted her head skyward and stretched once again, her fingers grasping for a sturdy hold. Finding one that she felt would support her weight, she propelled her body upward, passing through the cloud line where she found herself standing on the apex of the mountainous boulder.

  She sighed with deep relief and satisfaction at having made it to the top. Walking to the opposite edge of the rock, she surveyed the landscape below. Stretched out as far as her eyes could see was a mad scene of utter chaos. There was no order to anything. Abstract structures, with walkways and wings constructed in a willy-nilly fashion, teetered and collapsed beneath their own weight. People wandered aimlessly in every direction. Everyone and everything was acting of its own accord. No one was in control.

  Echo shouted out directions and commands to the swarming mass, but her words frustratingly faded into the atmosphere unheeded. She called out for help to no avail. She remained unseen and unheard—solitary and lost.

  Far away, across the clouds, the faint call of her name reached her ears. Echo peered in the direction of the sound and noticed a road winding through the sky which hadn't been there before. There was a signpost on the side of the road marked with bizarre symbols. Scratched into the sign was a single word. Tir-na-nog.

  "Are you going there?” queried a small voice.

  The wispy figure of a woman floated above the rock's surface. Long tresses of white blond hair billowed around the soft features of her pale face. She wore a diaphanous gown of emerald green, which whipped around her in the wind, although Echo could feel no wind at all.

  "I ... I don't know. I don't know which way to go. I think I'm lost.” Echo confessed.

  "Well, I have found that if you are lost, it often helps to just wait for someone to direct you."

  "How about you ... you're here right now.” Echo petitioned.

  "No, I don't think so. I think it is best if you just wait for someone else."

  "What if no one else ever shows up? What if I never get out of this godforsaken place? What if I die here all alone?"

  The lady in green laughed, “If, if, if ... so many ifs. Balls, said the Queen, if I had ‘em I'd be King."

  "What in the hell does that mean?"

  The green lady clucked her tongue. “Silly girl, it means that sometimes you just have to accept things for what they are, surrender and trust that the universe holds you safely in the palm of its hand."

  Leaving Echo with that enigmatic statement, the ethereal lady floated into the distance.

  Before she could think on what she had been told, the rock gave way sending her plummeting into darkness. Deeper and deeper she tumbled into the colorless abyss. She tried to cry out, but no sound emitted from her mouth. Hurtling downward, her descent jerked to an abrupt halt and she found herself suspended in mid-air, face down, her arms and legs splayed apart, held in suspension by iron shackles that encircled her wrists and ankles. She realized that she was nude.

  She wanted to go back to the safety of the rock, but it had vanished. Weeping in panic she thrashed about, wailing at the top of her lungs for help. Her cries bounced back to her across the black horizon. The more vigorously she struggled, the tighter the shackles bit into her flesh. She tried to relax and reason what her next move should be. When she relaxed, she discovered a peacefulness had come over her spirit. At that moment she realized that the shackles were not elements of punishment, they were instruments for her safety. If they were to vanish, she would plunge headlong into the chasm.

  As she willed the terror from her body, submitting to the security of the chains that bound her, a roar, like the sound of a passing train, arose from the depths. A mighty, sultry wind buffeted her naked body. It swirled and moaned, wrapping her skin in sensual sensations. The cyclone licked at her buttocks and fluttered between her legs. It caressed her breasts and tickled her thighs. Her panic subsided as she succumbed to the sensual wind. She hung in the atmosphere, suspended by the restraints, as the zephyr delighted and explored her secret, sensitive places. It was as if a multitude of tempestuous tongues teased and pleasured her flesh until she surrendered to orgasmic release.

  Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbor

  Flynn paced the floor of his bedroom. From his window he could see the ginger-haired woman carrying bags of groceries from her car. Chivalry nagged him to rescue her from the burden of the parcels, but he refrained. He had flustered her last night with his bold introduction; it had been a stupid move. You just didn't go around startling women in the dark at their doorway. He considered himself lucky that he avoided a face full
of pepper spray.

  He should probably take things more slowly, but time was running short. There was so much to do and so few days in which to make it all happen. He had waited longer than his memory could search. He had bided his time for her to be in this precise place at this precise moment in her life. His desire, coupled with the urgency of his business, had caused him to act rashly.

  All in all it was a satisfying initial meeting, but something had spooked her near the end. He needed to concoct a plan that would allow him to spend time with her today without scaring her off. He would need an excuse, something not too threatening, and not too flirtatious. It was imperative that he gained her trust. Without that, nothing could go as planned.

  Flynn screwed up his courage, tried unsuccessfully to put the disobedient lock of hair back in its proper place on his head, and winked confidently at his reflection in the mirror.

  * * * *

  A mammoth bouquet of hydrangea blossoms greeted Echo as she opened the door.

  "Delivery for Miss Sullivan."

  The dusty pink and amber of the October blooms obscured the deliverer from Echo's view.

  Echo was certain they had the wrong house.

  "Who are you looking for again? I think you probably have the wrong house."

  "No, right house, right girl ... these are a housewarming gift."

  The deliverer laid the flowers in Echo's arms. Golden rays from the afternoon sun silhouetted the man standing in the doorway. He beamed a sparkling smile in her direction.

  "Oh my God, Flynn ... you have to be kidding me? I can't believe this. You shouldn't have done ... I barely know you.” Echo stammered.

  "Echo, please, before you go getting your conkers in a knot, it wasn't any big deal. I ... uh ... well ... I sort of nicked them from your garden.” Flynn shrugged his shoulders, crinkled his eyes, and raised one eyebrow in a boyish, ‘sorry ‘bout that'.

  Echo chuckled to herself. This guy was so adorably smooth he could charm the panties off a Puritan.