Sighing, she let the caterpillar cuddle her tenderly, it’s body wonderfully warm against her nakedness, its hands pulling her against it even as she...closed her eyes and slipped in and out of wakefulness until the clearing began to darken, harkening the arrival of twilight which is when she discovered a miracle had taken place before her and she hadn’t even noticed. The caterpillar was no more. In its place was a shiny hard shell through which she could still see it, if vaguely.Recalling her. He was so smitten with you. Sometimes he called you his muse, sometimes his angel, and sometimes even sweetheart. He was such a sweetie. You knew he was older, maybe mid-sixties. He was married, and sometimes seemed to feel guilty about how attracted to you he felt. He was some sort of engineer, or scientist, and he taught at a university. And you liked that he frequently seemed more bashful than most of your fans. He almost never used vulgarity when writing, although some of his stories. More

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