Zeppelin Dreams (Short Story)

By O. M. Grey

A woman steals away to fulfill her desire with a phantom lover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Moose Press
• Release date: Nov 7, 2010

O. M. Grey

O. M. Grey currently lives in Texas with her husband. She holds both a BA and MA in British Literature. Although she doesn’t have a drop of British blood in her veins, she claims that her entire heart is British. As an amateur Anglophile, her dreams of the dark streets of London have finally found their home on the pages of her book. She prefers to live in the cobwebbed corners of her dark mind writing paranormal romance with a Steampunk twist. When she’s not writing, she’s reading or tending the garden or drinking a hot cup of tea. Just two drops, please.

Book preview

Zeppelin Dreams

A Short Story by O. M. GREY

Published by Blue Moose Press at Smashwords.

Copyright 2010 by O. M. Grey. All rights reserved.

Discover other Blue Moose Press titles at Smashwords.com

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/rowanofthewood

Discover other titles by O. M. Grey at Smashwords.com

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/omgrey

This is a work of fiction. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the authors.

For more information, go to

http://thebluemoosepress.com

http://omgrey.wordpress.com

This story contains adult content.

Zeppelin Dreams

She lay on the floor, a zeppelin between her legs. That was what the ladies called it at tea parties, an inside joke, as in My last zeppelin ride was quite the adventure. It was code for sex, mostly, but it also referred to the machines doctors used to relieve a lady’s hysteria. Ever since a psychiatrist had first helped her ease her own hysteria with a zeppelin, she kept one around. They had greatly improved over the past twenty-years; the clockwork driven machine now lasted much longer. Lilah’s was the latest style of zeppelin, shaped more or less like its namesake. It was not for insertion, after all, just clitoral stimulation. Handy little gadgets, they were. Especially when one did not want to go through all the trouble of coitus. After twenty-five years of marriage, it was mostly just a mess to clean up. Her husband showed even less interested in sex than she did, if that was possible. And it must be, for if they ever made love, she went to him.

But she tired of that.

She wanted to be taken, dominated. She wanted to be longed for,