EXTRACT FOR
Black Lace and Wood
(Giselle Renarde)

Sliding the sheer black stocking onto her foot, Rebecca drew it over her ankle, up her calf, and across the dimples of her knee.  These were special occasion stockings, thigh-highs with seams in the back.  When Rebecca wore them, she was the embodiment of sex.  



She watched herself in the bedroom mirror, clipping the clasps of her black garter to the lace tops of her stockings. She was a goddess, even as she twisted awkwardly to secure the rear snaps.  Bending down, she ran her fingers the length of the smooth stockings, straightening the seams from bottom to top.  



In the full-length mirror, she studied the spot where the black line of her thong crept out from between the snow-white slopes of her ass.  She turned to observe alabaster breasts glowing behind the rose and thorn pattern of her lace bra.  The full effect was black on white.  With Rebecca's midnight hair, blue-violet eyes and lips painted blood red, her husband always used to tell her she looked a spectre all in black.  



Sometimes she wished she were nothing more than that: an apparition, able to disappear into nothingness...