I woke to the sound of soft music. Ella was not there. The room was a dark chocolate colour, almost black. I followed the sound of the music though the strange bungalow. Though the door of the front room I could see Ella in an arm chair. The chair was large and deeply upholstered. In the semi-dark light I could see her blonde hair draped over the back of the chair. Her eyes were closed and I could not see the dark eyes that told me she dyed her hair; the eyes that sparkled like two stars in the dark heavens last night. Her attractively large mouth fixed in a closed smile. The same smile she gave me when we first met. Around her neck she still wore the dark blue satin choker. It was the only thing she wore. I sat in the chair opposite, her left elbow digging deeply into the soft padding, her right leg hanging over the other chair arm. Her left shoulder glowed in the soft light, as did her left nee, and breasts. Her erect nipples cast a shadow across her breasts. The index finger of her right hand was winding strands of her dark pubic hair into a horn. She had already completed one and it looked like a devil’s horn on the left corner of her thick triangle. It was the first time I had seen it. Last night she had switch the light out in the bed room. I had only seen her deep cleavage yesterday. Only felt her hair running between my fingers. Smelt its musky odour and felt her moist warmth on my cheeks, stopping once to remove a coarse hair from my teeth. Now her leg spread over the chair arm her outer gate was open. Her damp folds glistened in the fire light, at their centre the inner gate. Last night I had spent so long opening them. Tenderly teasing the petals open, not seeing them. Now they were before me, wide open like an orchid in bloom. Even in this light vivid with colour, red against the darker red, deeper of the chair. The music played on and I remained still. Now she allowed her finger to wonder into her valley. The same valley I had discovered yesterday. Ella’s finger glided along her valley, her smile still fixed, pulled back and played with her clit. The same clit I had run my tongue around last night. Her body moved. The first time since I had found her this morning, she seemed to sink deeper into the chair. Her smile still there, not changing. Her finger slipped past the final gate. She pulled it out, and it glistened, almost sparkled. She pushed the longest finger in and removed it moist. She returned to the hooded clit. I became aware of my own arousal, my hardness, it was almost painful. I started to handle myself. Ella still unaware of me; danced her finger over and around her clit. I ran my finger lightly up my manhood and around the sensitive ridge. I did not take my eyes off her. Ella’s tongue slipped between her lips as she sank into the chair again. She did not stop her finger moving. She relaxed, her mouth opened, her tongue wetted her lips. Her finger kept moving. I came. I felt warm liquid on my stomach. I must have made a noise. Ella opened her eyes. They shone like beacons in the firelight. Not a single point of light, now flames danced in each eye. Her smile became wider. She slipped her finger deep into herself, first one then two, then three. I did not move. She did. She walked the three paces to me. Knelt and licked my come from my body. We went back to bed.