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Sixty somethings cousins share a bed

You feel empty as you head downstairs for the first smoke and coffee of another long and monotonous day.

Emily pecks you on your cheek before she leaves for work, but you have already seen her holdall packed by the door. Unsure how to react you smile and tell her to have a good day. She leaves, crying audibly, to me. You feel her tears. Shortly after a blunt message confirms it. 'It's over Andrew, I cant stand you anymore. I am in love with someone else. Emily'

You throw your phone at the wall, half crazy with anger half desperate with depression. Your life has a tendency to throw things at you doesn't it, Andrew?

In front of me I have your life mapped out on my coffee table, bills, birth certificate, photographs, copies of pages from old journals. Mostly things that you do not spend a lot of time thinking about, so I cant get them from your mind. It would take longer than breaking in and stealing all the papers.

Your dog Fred likes me.

You sit a lot at your computer, mulling over the past, or the pieces you can stand to think about. On the whole you seem pretty average, tall, slim, long black hair. A goth type, just the one tattoo, and a lip and tongue stud. Your mind tells me otherwise. You don't know your father, you have had a nasty encounter with a babysitter, your car accident at 13 has left you with a lot of scars, both internal and external, these are just some of the things that add to your high barriers. But I will always have a way in because of your fascination with being dominated and now with me.

I sip at my water, planning. I know you sleep during the day, and I want to slip in before you are in too deep a sleep to come around fast. Knowing that Emily won't be paying a surprise visit is good news. Today will be the day where you realise your fantasies can be fulfilled.

Several coffees later, you are tired. Helped on a little by my mind hopping. Easing your weary body from your chair, Fred in tow you clamber up the stairs, puling away your Guns n Roses t shirt as you go, and slumping still half dressed, face down onto bed.

Before long, a gentle sleep takes hold, as Fred rushes downstairs to greet me. I glide up the stairs soundlessly and into your room via the closed doors, I materialise wearing nothing but a pair of black panties and a pink and black chemise/dress. You hear nothing, but feel my weight pressing down on your lower back and ass.

You slowly raise through layers of sleep, as I lean in and bite your ear lobe, your first reaction is that Emily has changed her mind, but when I whisper, "hello there Andrew." In my gentile voice, your mind panics and you struggle.

"Who...what the fuck...?" My nails are in your soft back, raking red lines, etching. You moan outwardly and struggle, coming more to your senses with each passing second.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Questions, questions Andrew."

"How do you know my name?" You ask, your voice quivers as my hands snake under your waist and I undo your belt.

"Oh, I know a lot more than that, Mr Goddard." I stop; you are thrashing around too much for me to get your jeans off smoothly. Which is the reaction I wanted, I pull out some rope and attach your wrists to the bedposts rendering escape no longer possible.

By now, sleep has dissipated entirely, you whimper and shiver a little knowing that I have you trapped and there is no one around to help you anymore.

"Please," you beg, "why are you doing this? Let me go." I ignore you, yanking away your jeans, and black shorts to reveal your pert, tight little ass, I rub my hands, and nails over the soft, hairy skin. Making you whimper, "oooh, please, please. I...who are you?"

"You will refer to me as your Lady from now on, understand?" I growl, grabbing a handful of your black hair to emphasise my words. You nod slowly.

You feel me get off the bed, rummage around in my bag, you try very hard to concentrate on the quiet noises I am making, I enter your mind making you groan, I see you saying 'fuck, it's her, the woman from

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