Payne lay supine on the grass, ankles crossed and arms spread wide. She had wandered into this backyard hours ago, finding solace in the grass and gazing up at the canopy of stars.

She remembered a time when opening herself like this came with a certain sense of danger, of vulnerability...and it had turned her on. But now, lying exposed to the night and all of its vermin, she felt nothing. The danger was gone, leaving only that feeling of inferiority gained by succumbing to the panoply of stars.

From some distance behind her, the sound of footfalls wafted to her ears. Payne rolled over onto her stomach, and peered around the corner of the house. A teenage girl, tall and slender, walked by on the sidewalk out front. She had fascinating skin.... Payne slunk forward to get a closer look.

So young, so supple, the girl appeared to be. As she passed under a streetlight Payne watched, entranced. How many hands had caressed those breasts? Or cupped that face? How many lips had brushed those thighs and lingering, on no particular spot, invited passion? Payne wondered if the girl had ever known the presence of a man inside of her; the ultimate sensualness of his entrance, and the subsequent thrusts which commanded cataclysm.

In the end it didn't matter. There was nothing readily striking about the girl. But she did have beautiful skin....

Payne rose and began to follow the young one. The pleasures of a man Payne could provide her -- before and after the carving.