<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b8/Aggy-Closeup.jpg) </div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Agatha Dunwich<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>April, 27 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Late night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Agatha’s Back Porch<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Agatha Dunwich was up late.  Agatha was always up late, she kept crazy hours which was fitting because most people thought was completely crackers anyway.  But this was perhaps too late.  She had already gathered and lost a second wind and she needed to get to bed before a third one started and she was up all night. From room to room she wandered, her mind wandered with her.  She had been avoiding this, she knew.  She didn’t like it.  It reminded Agatha of how alone she was.  Going from room to room, putting out the lights reminded her that this house was too big for just one person.  The little house in Deer Creek hadn’t been half the size of this one and yet seemed so full when Eliza had been there.  It had been almost two years and the thoughts of Eliza hadn’t faded, not completely.  They hadn’t known each other long, a few months of time, but those months had been some of the happiest of Agatha’s young life.  She still thought of Eliza often.  Hoping she made it safely to Pennsylvania, hoping she was happy, and sadly hoping she had forgotten the red haired scientist she had made so very happy those years ago.<br/><br/>After arriving in Gomorra Agatha had kept herself busy setting up her home and her business. She worked until all hours of the night on her inventions so she would not waste away the day crying.  She was alone or so she had thought until she had been reunited with her childhood friend.  Their friendship had grown over the last year, gently nudging Eliza out of her every moment thoughts and into the quiet times when she was alone, which was sadly often for Agatha had made a vow.  She would forego sex. She would not fall in love.  She would live her life on the edge of town so that she would not be tempted again, not lead another astray from the eyes of God and be forced to watch them leave her again.<br/><br/>It was hard.  Her work, her specialty work, was sought after by the brothels.  She often visited the local madam’s and owners to sell her wares.  Many were dives and the girls sick with disease and despair, but some of the best establishments were filled with girls of exquisite and exotic beauty, some perhaps willing to take Agatha to their beds, some making those intentions quite clear after Agatha had been in Gomorra for a few months with no sign of a suitor at her door.<br/><br/>But Agatha stayed true to her vow even as she longed to spend a night in their nests of silk and satin, blood red lips soiling her porcelain skin and bringing her to ecstasy.  She wondered if any of them would enjoy it as much as she would.  It was two nights ago she had almost given in to her desires, broken her vow.  A beautiful drifter, no dove, no resident, dusty with Mesa dirt and dressed not unlike a ranchero or maybe a hand.  She was tall and lean to the point of lanky, with beautifully dark eyes and strong rough hands.  Thankfully business had stepped between Agatha and her temptation that night.  She could not afford to slip, for her customers to know that she preferred the company of women to men.<br/><br/>From room to room she moved until the lone light of her bedroom glimmered like a secret beacon in the dark.  I am here.  I am alone.  Undressing took time, time to roam through old memories and new feelings all confusing for a woman more comfortable with the hard facts of science.  It was solid and knowable, not ephemeral and mysterious.  Her skirts slipped to the floor as did her bloomers when they were untied.  Silk stockings buttoned to garters snugly stung against her thighs adorned her legs, the straps pressed into her soft flesh as she sat on a wooden chair in front of the full length mirror in the corner of her room. Agatha watched herself undress as if she was someone else, slowly unlacing her corset, her well-endowed breasts pressing against the fabric aching for release.  She closed her eyes and imagined delicate fingers teasing the laces loose one at a time until she could slip from its embrace.  Her hands free of releasing herself from the corset’s lovely bondage she lifted the long hem of her chemise to reveal thighs smooth and supple.  Olive skin and a radiant smile teased her mind’s eye, but she forced them away.  To acknowledge those feeling and those desires was to make them real and to make them real would change things.  The tingle she felt in her stomach should have told her they already had.<br/><br/>With a practiced and deliberate hand she popped the garters loose from her stockings and rolled them carefully down her legs, letting them fall to the floor. She would pick them up and put them away tomorrow.  Her chemise joined the stockings and her green eyes wandered over the revealed form in the mirror as long arms and dexterous fingers pulled pins from her hair letting it cascade over shoulders lightly dusted with freckles.<br/><br/>Agatha could almost feel hands caressing her, wishing desperately for some ghostly vision to appear in the mirror behind her, enfolding her in her arms, explore her now aroused flesh by the light of a single lamp that cast lonely shadows into the forgotten corners of her bedroom where forbidden desires lurked with lustful intent.  No specter of flesh, pale or olive, lanky or waif-like appeared.  No fingers soft or rough ran over her body, only her own, touching herself in ways she wished someone else would.<br/><br/>The lamp extinguished letting hunger shadows consume the room and Agatha’s thoughts.  She thought about the chest at the end of her bed, what lay within, the release it would surely bring her, but she denied herself and slipped into bed hoping sleep would come quickly.  It did not.  Her bed was large like the house, again too big for only one person, but perfect for two, with posts of study wood for silk to bind too and curtains of heavy cloth to hide the delicate bodies within and muffle the cries of ecstasy to those without.  Lustful thoughts intruded on her weary mind as moments turned into minutes.  She coiled in her bed, knees bent and pressed together tightly entrapping the fingers that gently massaged her aroused sex.  She simply craved a release, something to free her mind from her thoughts and let her body sleep, but that too was to be denied her when the sound of rushing water reverberated in the piles outside her bedroom wall.  She sat upright in bed hand still trapped between her thighs.<br/><br/>“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She said in exasperation and a little sliver of fear until she recognized the sound for what it was.  “That had better not be a broken pipe.” She muttered her body shivering from adrenaline and excitement.  Agatha quickly made her way down the stairs pulling on a light robe as she went before heading towards the back door that lead to the porch.  She didn’t even bother to tie the robe only holding it closed with her hand.  She could hear the sound of splashing water before she reached the door. It was only just before she opened it that she caught movement outside its window.<br/><br/>No sound other than the splashing of water could be heard.  The door handle did not turn or even jiggle and with a deep breath Agatha braved a look.  Her eyes widened and she ducked back down immediately, her hand clapping over her mouth to stifle any sound she might have made.  There was someone out there… in her shower.  Did she dare take another looks? Should she chase them off? Water was a precious resource…she peeked again.  The person had their back to her.  In the dark it took a moment to make her out…her out.  The spray of water droplets glittered off of the slender and strong form.  Agatha could see lean muscles in her arms and shoulders move beneath her dusky skin.  Black hair fell midway down the woman’s back sending a rivulet of water along her spine drawing Agatha’s eye to the firm and rounded rear of the tall and beautifully formed figure.  She felt she should look away, but she couldn’t bring herself too.  Not until the strong and athletic form began to turn.  Agatha ducked again under the window, her heart pounding in her chest.  She should leave. Just go back to bed or make a bunch of noise to scare the woman away, but she didn’t.  She closed her eyes and water dancing along strong, supple skin filled her vision.  The soft curve of waist meeting hip and the dark crease of forbidden territory called to the fire that had been slowly building inside of Agatha throughout the night…throughout the year.<br/><br/>Her mind was screaming at her to go back upstairs.  Ignore the sounds of rushing water, the glistening of wet skin and the pleasing curves of the naked form outside, but she didn’t.  Something about the woman was familiar.  The tall thin body and dark hair, the long limbs, the hint of her fine boned jaw and high cheeks made her breath quicken and her heart rate increase.  The sounds of her body drowned out the screaming in her head.  At some point in her mental deliberations she had picked up the bar of soap she kept in the pail next to the door.  She used the very same to clear the grime of a hard day off of her body before entering her home.<br/><br/>What was she doing?  It was stupid, it was crazy, but she didn’t care.  She was tired of denying herself, tired of living in her self induced vow of chastity.  The woman outside was beautiful, a vagabond for sure even if she had mistaken her identity.  There was little risk she told herself as she turned the nob on the door gently so not to alert the woman of her presence.  Agatha felt the light robe fall from her shoulders as she slipped through the door into the warm Gamorran night.<br/><br/>The shiver that she felt had little to do with the weather and everything to do with tiny sparks of water kissing her own naked body as her eyes took in the surreal image of beauty before her.  Her feet padded softly and quietly along the porch until the distraction became too much and her foot pressed upon a loose board who’s squeak was audible above the patter of water.<br/><br/>Agatha froze her eyes widening, her brazen thoughts draining from her like sand from a broken hourglass.  Agatha’s body went ridged.  The pale moonlight gave her milky skin a luminescent quality and licked at her coppery tresses like cold fire.  Breasts firm and round gave form to her otherwise slender frame and their stiffened nubs dark and full gave no illusions as to the state of her arousal. Agatha’s body would be laid bare before Harley if she were to turn towards her, her only adornment a small thatch of curly red hair crowning her sex.<br/>