After sucking her for a long, long time, Tamara pushed the writer down on her back. She stood up, removing what was left of her clothes, and straddled the writer's make-believe cock. Taking the head of the strap-on, she took the very tip, and rubbed it around and around the outer edge of her throbbing pussy. Tamara's face took on the look of a greedy animal about to satisfy her needs. She sighed, moaned loudly, and then rammed herself with the cock. She rode it hard and fast, her pussy making a slurping noise, and the sound of flesh on rubber was heady. She then slowed her rhythm. The writer reached around to Tamara's asshole and probed it softly with her fingers. It was wet. The writer inserted a finger. This provoked Tamara to no end, and she said, "More, more! Please more!" The writer inserted another finger and began pressing it in and out of her tiny hole. The pressure mounted, and Tamara jerked hard and frantic on the dildo, coming with a wild, outrageous scream, as the writer laid back and watched her body quake.

The writer was filled with pleasure, overwhelmed by a feeling of bliss. Tamara and she took a long, hot wordless bath together, and the writer loaned her some clothes to get home in. They kissed good-night. The writer returned to her room, picking up her pen, sitting down at the table with her notebook, and began to write.

The sirens' cries echo in her mind still and these are the tales left behind.