My dream had come true! Finally, at 31 years of age, I was racing at Le Mans! The famous 24 Hours of Le Mans!
It was my first time in France since the war. I will never forget the whizzing bullets on Juno beach when I landed with my French Canadian regiment and faced elements of the German 716th Infantry Division. I saw some of the prisoners two days later—frightened boys like myself.
Everywhere we went and liberated a town or city, the people welcomed us like heroes. It was easy to find a woman to sleep with; at 19 years old, I stood 6 feet 1 inch without an ounce of extra weight, thanks to the harsh military life. All I had to do was to offer her something like a candy bar, a cigarette or a glass of bourbon. This had left me with the impression that French women were in general easier to get than the ones at home in my God-fearing, Catholic hometown of Quebec City.
Making my racing dream come true had been a very long journey, fraught with sacrifices. For one, I had remained single since no woman in her right mind would marry a man whose days and nights were obsessed with one thing—driving a sports car as fast as possible while not being able to earn a living out of it, and often changing jobs, because I didn’t fit in anywhere else other than on a racing circuit.
Thanks to these sacrifices, there I was on that fine day of June! I stood in front of my 1956 Corvette and looked at her sleek curves and her racy body standing on her whitewall tires, and I felt it was well worth it! In less than a week, I’d be driving this beauty from Detroit in the world’s most prestigious endurance race—the 24 Hours of Le Mans!
The start would see all pilots lined on one side of the track, standing and ready to sprint and jump into their cars, all parked at an angle on the other side of the dangerously narrow track, all waiting and placed according to their qualifications lap times. The start would be given on Saturday at 4 P.M. and the checkered flag would salute the winning car—driven by the two-pilot team who would have run the most laps and distance.
Each pilot relayed his teammate every two hours. It was an ungodly long and hard race; driving at a deadly pace for two hours requires mind-boggling concentration… Now, imagine this, you have to do it twelve times over 24 hours!
Most cars didn’t finish the race. Motors or some other mechanical components would fail, or the pilot made a mistake and his car swerved outside the track in what could easily become a fatal crash—there were trees and other solid landmarks right on the roadside!
The cars had no seat belts, as pilots felt it was better to be thrown clear outside during a collision than remaining trapped in their burning car or getting crushed under its 3,000 pounds of steel.
We wore a helmet with goggles, gloves for a better grip on the wheel, and we often rolled up the sleeves of our polo shirts so the ladies could see our well-toned upper arms! At least, this was what I did.
A helmet, gloves and the ladies’ good-luck charm were all the protection we had! This was enough, until it wasn’t.
The year before, a terrible, horrible accident had occurred between cars as they were zooming at great speed in front of the stands. Mike Hawthorn’s Jaguar had suddenly braked and veered to go to the pits, which are located directly on the right side of the track; the following car braked hard and swerved to the left in order to avoid Hawthorn, but then that swerving car was rear-ended by Pierre Levegh, whose white Mercedes was closing in at 125 mph!
The last thing Levegh did was to raise his hand and signal the danger to his teammate, Fangio, who was right behind and came through unscathed.
At such a high speed, the rear-ended car acted as a ramp and launched the white Mercedes into the air! Levegh’s car skipped over a protective berm and landed on the earthen embankment between the spectators and the track, throwing the pilot onto the track where he was instantly killed with a crushed skull.
The Mercedes bounced and rebounded twice on the embankment, then slammed hard into a concrete stairwell structure and disintegrated! Its heaviest components—the engine block, radiator, front suspension and bonnet—were sent flying straight into the crowd where they crushed and decapitated all in their path!
The rear gas tank exploded and burning debris were thrown into the crowd! The resulting mess of crushed bodies, agony cries and charred flesh claimed 84 lives. It was the worst disaster in auto racing ever!
As I put on my driving gloves, attached my grape-blue helmet and lowered myself into the cockpit of my Corvette, I cleared my mind and concentrated on the track and its technical details, its challenges, its dangers. I was to run a few laps to familiarize myself and take notes of the many features of each and every part of the circuit.
As always, some fans were gathered around the sports car in addition to the teams of mechanics. A local gal, a young wife, was looking at me while standing next to her typical-French husband. She was looking straight into my eyes, with an intensity that surprised me, and she struck me as peculiarly beautiful—petite, brunette, with a je ne sais quoi in her features.
She made me think of someone I knew. She stood rather short and was in her early twenties, with porcelain-white skin, black wavy hair, a gorgeous figure, a slim waist underscored by the tight-fitting belt on her dress, and a face you would never grow tired of contemplating, but in her case, her features had some sadness; she gave a vague impression of being on the verge of tears while smiling with joy in her eyes—she was smiling at me!
The shapes of her perky breasts beautifully curved the pattern of her checkered dress—grape-blue squares on a white field. I suddenly felt an urge to discover and touch these glorious breasts! There was a sense of joy in them, highlighted by her double pearl necklace with its white beads glittering under today’s bright sun.
She raised her white-gloved hand to her eyes as some dust was bothering her, while her suit-and-hat-wearing husband kept eying the foreign curves of my Corvette’s chassis.
I pushed the ignition, lowered my goggles and moved off as everyone made way for my American car, which sported a grape-blue stripe on a white field. A big white circle was painted on the wide blue stripe on the hood; it contained a freshly painted number 7, bold and black.
My heart began to race; I was off on the Le Mans circuit!
I moved off from the pits, very mindful of pedestrians and traffic—there were bicycles, motorcycles and cars on the track, so I drove gently.
I directly veered out of the pits and smoothly accelerated on the stretch leading to the wide-sweeping bend to the right and passed under the Dunlop Bridge, shaped like a part of a gigantic Dunlop tire.
After the Dunlop Bridge, I directly went into the first chicane, in the form of S-shaped curves bordered with oaks and linden trees; curves that could be taken in second gear, but I took them slower, in first gear, because there was quite a bit of traffic on the road—two motorcycles zoomed from the opposite direction on my left. Then, coming out of a 90-degree curve called the Tertre Rouge, a decade-old Opel car was in my way and forced me to take my right-side wheels slightly off the road; then a cyclist saw me and quickly moved away from the center of the track.
Then came the Mulsanne Straight, a long straight line that allows the pilots to max out their speed. The trees and farm houses were vanishing behind me as I stepped on it and reached almost 160 mph, going about 10 mph slower than I would during the race. I zoomed past two civilian cars.
During that long straight line, the pilot can relax a little bit. The only problem is that you have to be careful of the cars from other classes, as they would go much slower. At night, it can become quite difficult to judge the speed and distance of a slower car on that long straight line.
After reaching the top of a gentle hill and taking a smooth kink to my right, very nearly flat out, I saw the Mulsanne Corner coming fast at me while I was driving down a gentle slope. I expertly used my clutch and downshifted all my gears from fifth to first, the motor roaring loud as if it sounded annoyed to slow down, then I turned and took this very sharp curve to my right, testing the adherence of my tires and checking how my suspension responded as I came out of the curve and passed the new signalling stands off to my right.
This was another new feature for 1956. This year, all the signalling would be done from these stands right at the exit of the Mulsanne Corner, where the cars moved at their slowest during the lap. This made a lot of sense.
I accelerated to a deadly pace! There was no traffic in that thickly forested part of the 8.4-mile circuit and I drove almost as fast as I’d go during the race. What a rush! I quickly reached the Indianapolis curve, a sharp 90-degree elbow to the left, which I aced on the first gear at the very limit of the car’s capabilities, feeling a heavy G-force pushing me hard to the left as my shoulder was being pressed against the side upon exiting the curve.
I then picked up speed, stick shifting into second gear before clutching down to first again and veering hard into the Arnage Corner to the right; then I had the motor raging and roaring again as I quickly up-shifted all the way to the fourth gear and was met by two passing cars on the left side, while I raced through a series of fast-paced, gentle curves. This portion of the circuit was deep in the woods and the fast-moving landscape was gorgeous under this afternoon sun!
Other improvements had been made there. The road had been widened and a bump had been flattened out, making that treacherous part of the circuit faster. Those kinky stretches of road took me to the chicane and rise in front of the White House, where the track had been considerably widened and the rise lowered, allowing us to take it very fast indeed!
I finally passed the empty grandstand off to my left, where that terrible, unspeakably horrible accident had occurred last year. After passing the pits to my right, driving at a gentle speed as it was quite crowded, I once more took that sweeping curve to the right while passing under the Dunlop Bridge to begin another lap. I was so happy to be there! What a rush!
Every time I slowly passed the pit, I tried to spot that mysterious woman, my eyes searching for the slim figure of her knee-high dress, but there was no sign of her. All of a sudden, the checkered pattern of her blue-on-white dress was a prize I desired more strongly than the checkered victory flag!
I spent the rest of the qualifications week with my thoughts haunted by her figure! She was nowhere to be seen. I even inquired around the team of mechanics, who had been there near my car on that afternoon; none of them had seen such a young woman wearing such a blue and white dress. They were positive and I knew some of them were playboys who wouldn’t have failed to notice such a cutie!
Indeed, she was a classy chassis and I was sure! She was there! How odd! This strangeness intensified my fascination. My team director wasn’t too happy with these sorts of inquiring about a lady no one had seen, and he ordered me to snap out of it and focus on the race.
I surprised myself and did quite well in the qualification rounds. The team director chose my younger teammate to start the race, since he was younger and could run faster. In return, I would be driving the final two hours of the race.
The starting pistol was fired at four o’clock sharp! All the pilots ran and jumped into their car and they zoomed off like a fast-moving traffic jam, driving flat out as if death itself was after them! Indeed, for the dead travel fast!
The first hours of the race were unsurprising; the Jaguars and Ferraris were leading. I had taken the wheel at six o’clock and maintained our eighth place, behind an Aston-Martin driven by a former British Captain whom I remembered seeing in Normandy, near Caen, after a very bitter fight against a Panzer Division.
At eight o’clock, I passed over the wheel to my young teammate and the headlights were turned on shortly after, while the June sky was slowly turning into a beautiful dusk rose, with dark, ominous clouds looming and scudding from the east.
I stood in the pits while drinking a Seven-Up and joking around with my mechanics. Later, I watched the sunset; it was beautiful!
At that very moment, some nameless, cold fear gripped my heart. I thought of Delphine, 19 years old, single, who was working in a pet shop in Quebec City; she was a really nice girl and she was clearly showing interest for me. She also looked a bit like that mysterious woman; perhaps I loved Delphine more than I thought and my mind had tricked me and made me see this woman! Yes, this must be it!
I made my decision as I drank a second Seven-Up. This would be my last race. It was time for me to settle down. I was 31 and all my peers had been married for nearly ten years.
When I returned behind the wheel at 10 o’clock, the night was turning chilly, and eerie too; my teammate told me that fog was forming up in the thickly wooden parts of the circuit around Indianapolis and Arnage corners.
I hoped there would be some rain to dissipate that fog, or at least that the fog wouldn’t be too bad. Alas, it was getting thicker and eerier with each new lap! I became scared and I was tempted to go really slow, but I couldn’t let the team down!
I was just past the Arnage corner, driving as fast as the thick fog allowed me to, my eyes keenly following the evanescent contours of the track through these fast-paced kinks, when a much slower car, a Volkswagen Beetle, suddenly materialized in front of me!
I had no time to break, so I veered to my right and I was passing that slow poke with two wheels on the grass and gravel roadside, unscathed, but then a man stood right in my headlights! The same man I had seen with that mysterious woman!
I braked and swerved to the left, zooming across the track, punching through a low fence, then hitting an earthen embankment that became a ramp and launched my Corvette into the air! It landed, bounced, then crashed directly into a massive oak while I was thrown clean out of the car!
I landed and rolled some distance away, half groggy and I felt no pain, incredibly! It was as if I had fallen from 20,000 feet and gently landed on the grass using a parachute! The absence of a seatbelt had saved my life. The car was a total wreck and I had no doubt I would never had walked out of this if I had remained strapped to my seat!
The eerie night was still and silent around me. I was lying down on the ground, alone in the middle of thick fog, with numerous tall trees overlooking me. The air was strangely cold for a June night; I felt something wet at my left temple; I touched it—blood!
I laughed! It was nothing! I suddenly felt unfathomably happy. I closed my eyes. The race was over. It was my last race, and I was happy it was over. Now, Delphine…
I felt a hand softly touching my chest; I heard a woman’s voice. She was kneeling at my side and asking me if I was all right.
“Delphine? Is that you?” I said as I opened my eyes.
For some weird reason, I wasn’t surprised to see this mysterious woman leaning over me and looking down at me with her heavenly eyes. I had felt it could only be her or Delphine as I heard her voice.
It was her all right; she was still wearing her short-sleeved dress with its checkered, blue-on-white pattern, which now looked more grey on white under the silvery moonlight.
Her breast shapes were there all right, as well as her double pearl necklace, which I took in my hand; I started playing with its beads. She smiled down on me; she was truly beautiful with her delicate features framed in her black hair, which she wore in the same shoulder-length style as actress Margaret Lockwood did in the 1938 movie “A Lady Vanishes” from Alfred Hitchcock.
She gently caressed my left temple with her white-gloved hand.
“Careful!” I said. “There’s blood and I wouldn’t want you to smear your white glove!” “It’s OK!” she said. “You’re fine now! You’re fine… I’ve been waiting for you.” She said, her hand still caressing my injured temple, where I felt surprisingly unhurt.
She stooped down and kissed me while caressing my face with her gloved hand.
Time stopped.
I kissed her back. My lips sealed on her lips, which felt cold from the night’s chill. Her gaping mouth offered me the flavours of her breath, then our tongues started gently jockeying with each other. She was kissing me as if she had been waiting for years, and now she was happy! I sensed joy and a diffuse sadness in her as we kept kissing.
The foggy night was still around us. Not a soul to be seen! An owl was heard.
I became horny! I was alone with her and I was going to have her!
I hugged her and rolled her over on the ferns, so that she now lay under me. She raised her hands on either sides of her pretty face and playfully smiled… “I surrender!” she said in a mock submissive tone, with lights of mirth and arousal in her eyes.
The curves of her perky breasts were waiting for my touch under her checkered dress. I wanted her like I had never wanted any other woman!
Then, I noticed the palms of her raised hands—her gloves were immaculate. Not a trace of blood! I felt my left temple, which I knew had been bleeding profusely; there was no blood anymore.
That was very strange, but I brushed it off and put it on the account of the shock from the accident. I had more important matters at hand!
I felt my erection quickly growing as I removed my driving gloves and began undoing the buttons of her dress top, slowly opening the book of her pectoral mystery while she smiled and kept looking at me in the same way a girlfriend would on her very first night of sex.
She got up on her knees and faced me as she removed the top of her dress, letting it fall down her pale shoulders and arms, showing a nondescript bra encasing a pair of firm, medium-sized breasts, with her stiff nipples forming tiny bulges under the fabric. Then she went behind her back and unfastened her bra!
As her bra dropped on her lap, I pushed her back down on the forest floor, where I began licking and kissing her nipples, which stood stiff from the night’s chill, and there I was, tenderly sucking and kneading this mysterious woman’s breasts under that spooky, foggy night sky!
I took my time to contemplate her breasts, which presently lay flat below her double pearl necklace, in a show of erotic glamour. I slowly ran my hands around these lovely mounds, feeling their contours and letting her perky nipples feed my erection! She smiled and looked deep into my eyes the whole time I did this! I could tell she was enjoying this just as much as I did, perhaps even more!
I was intoxicated with her nubile scent! Her light-coloured nipples felt ungodly delicious in my mouth and against my tongue! She was running her fingers through my hair as she began purring and moaning under me, her back against the forest floor. The way her chilly breasts yielded under my hands was casting an unbreakable spell!
“My turn, now!” she said as her fair features took an impish air. She nimbly moved herself from under my grasp and gently pushed my chest, motioning me to lie down.
Once I was down on my back, the topless brunette straddled me with her petite frame and avidly pulled my polo shirt out of my black denim trousers. She urgently pulled it over my head and I helped her removing it. I soon felt the magic touch of her lips on my bare chest.
“Oohh… A man! So this is how it feels! Oohh…” the 22-year-old woman said as she kept frantically caressing and kissing my torso, her white-gloved hands forming classy beacons on my muscles as she kept worshipping my anatomy.
My erection grew into full-raging status when her little hands fondled with my zipper. She began removing her gloves, but I asked her to keep her gloves on; I had always dreamed of having a woman going down on me while wearing her day gloves!
She kept her gloves and managed to unzip my trousers, which I lowered for her along with my boxers. My dick came sticking out as a seven-inch pillar of flagpole stiffness!
“Oh God! Yes!” I bellowed as her white-gloved hand took hold of it!
She presently engulfed my cock in her dainty mouth and began worshipping my stiff dick as I leaned back and watched her raven-haired head, face down and bobbing away, making me feel the tight seal of her mouth along with the darting wetness of her tongue and the ungodly massaging action of her gloved hand!
Before long, my precum spilled out of my cock and mingled with her saliva. She stopped.
“Do you want to take me now, Mister? I’d love to be on top of you! And you’ll see, I’m very tight!” she said with a mischievous smile, her eyes always displaying that diffuse sense of sorrow. It felt like being in bed with a widow whose husband had passed away only two weeks before. Yet her words had told me this was her inaugural flight. Wasn’t she married? Where was that man I had seen in my headlights? I had seen him at her side on that afternoon as well…
I didn’t answer her question. I contemplated her in silence as she slipped out of her leather flat shoes, cutting all my thinking short as she revealed the beauty of her bare feet! Oh, God! Her wonderfully petite figure was all summed up in this pair of dainty feet! She was so sexy!
Then, she undid the thin belt that was holding her dress and showcasing her lithe waist. She let her dress fall to her feet and swiftly removed and discarded her panties.
Eve-nude amid the foggy forest, she smiled at me and gracefully swirled around, letting me see all her charms—the contrast of her raven hair against her porcelain skin, the maddening perkiness of her breasts when seen from a three-quarter profile, with the silvery moonlight forming curvy shadows that intensified their nubile contours!
My gaze caressed her spotless abdomen as I looked further down. She had child-bearing hips forming the primordial hour-glass figure against her slender waist; the black vee of her pubic hair made her thighs look even whiter, and as she turned, my dick hardened to a nearly painful stiffness as the curves of her butt offered themselves to my sight and seamlessly merged into her petite, alluring legs!
As she walked to me, her legs moved gracefully and led my eyes to her dainty feet, making me nearly regret the fact that foreplay was over and she wanted me to take her now and make her mine, for I would have loved to kiss and lick these lovely feet of hers!
“Oh, Miss! You’re so…”
“Shhhh…” she hissed with her index on her mouth. “No words, Mister! I want to listen to your breathing while you fuck me. And I want you so bad… So bad!”
She straddled me and eagerly guided herself on my impaling erection. I felt her crazy wetness as she lowered herself! I grabbed her snow-white hips, grunting out of sheer delight as I got acquainted with her indescribable tightness!
Words fail to describe how incredibly good it felt to be fucking her while holding her lithe waist and watching her pleasure-swollen breasts jiggling up and down while her raven hair gently followed the copulating rhythm on her shoulders. As she kept looking down on me, her eyes were bright with joy, but always mingled with shadows of hidden sorrow.
Her white-gloved hands on my chest and her pearl necklace added a touch of glamour as she moaned and purred while relentlessly impaling herself on my dick! I wished that time would stop and we would always remain here together, making love for ever under that foggy night sky!
Suddenly, she frantically moved her pelvis in urgent motions, powerfully massaging my dick with her crazy-moving walls while she looked at me with a gaze that had turned nearly devilish!
“You’re mine! You’re mine!” she said twice before she detonated in a loud groan as she climaxed! Was she a witch? Was I fucking a witch?
She presently stooped down and hugged me while I cupped her butt with both hands and frantically drilled her, my face buried in the black mass of her hair as I blissfully passed my no-return point and my throbbing dick powerfully twitched inside her…
I screamed like a banshee as my cock exploded and filled her up with three manly bolts of jizz, which she received inside her while hugging and kissing me as she purred with delight!
I lay panting with my new girlfriend. She was naked and resting her lovely head on my chest while her gloved hands kept caressing me. She kept purring with after-climax delight while I kept gently caressing her hair. We were both naked, except for my lowered trousers and the fact I was still wearing the Chuck Taylor’s running shoes I had begun the race with.
Strangely enough, none of us were cold, yet I remembered the night getting too chill for my short sleeves shortly before the accident.
I heard some far-away voices.
I moved to sit up and get up, but she strongly pushed me back onto the forest floor. “Stay, Mister, stay!” she said in a persuasive tone. “Stay, it’s no use. They can’t see you now! They can’t see us! Please, stay. Stay and I’ll let you fuck me again in any way you like!”
“No! No!” I replied. “I must go, I must tell them I’m all right!”
“Please, don’t go now! If you go now, you will lose me forever! Remember that afternoon when you first saw me? You kept looking for me after this; I saw you, but you couldn’t see me, and I couldn’t reach and touch you, no matter how badly I wanted to! So stay, and let’s not lose each other this time…”
As she spoke, she had begun kissing me while wrapping her legs and arms around me.
“Oh, her feet! Her lovely little feet…” I thought upon realizing that this dream girl was naked in my arms and she would let me do whatever I wanted! Right now, I wanted to touch, sniff and taste her feet!
She was frantically holding me, her four limbs tightly clutching my tall frame as she kept kissing me as if her very life depended on how intensely she kissed me with her night-chilly lips!
Having her Eve-naked and tightly wrapped around me like this was stirring up my adrenaline-fuelled arousal into a new surge! I felt my dick swelling and hardening as it was pressed against the velvety patch of her cunt hair, while she kept kissing me like a girl in the most debauched Bacchanalia!
I soon found myself unwilling to wrestle myself out of her clinch, in which she displayed surprising strength for such a petite woman. My right hand found one of her feet and I began caressing her heel and her tender sole as we kept exchanging passionate kisses while she clinched me with her four limbs, relentlessly and desperately!
Soon, I was having a wild fantasy, where she was a white-gloved lady who had been stopped by a well-built policeman for speeding. He had accepted her offer to pay her ticket in kind, and now they were both naked and making out on the roadside, next to her parked sports car!
She helped me remove my Chuck Taylor’s racing shoes along with my trousers and boxers, while I kept running that fantasy in my head, imagining she was helping me out of a police uniform.
At that point, my fuck shaft was buck-hard and all I wanted to do was to fuck this young woman doggy style like that imaginary policeman, right next to her stopped car, on the roadside, while she was still wearing her day gloves! Before long, we were doing just that!
The forest was now filled with her loud moaning as I kept gleefully driving the twin curves of her soft butt against my horny frame, ignoring the chill earth under my knees and enjoying the unfathomable pleasures of her vagina walls massaging my victorious dick as I repeatedly rammed her!
She was now very loud in her moaning… “Oooohhh, Ooohhh yes! Ohhh Mister! Keep going! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes… Oh my jive! Oh my jiiiiiiivee!!! Aaaaaaa… aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA… aaahh aaahh aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAA… My jive! It’s so good!!!”
She hit a full-blown orgasm, emitting a peculiar series of high-pitched whimpers while repeating “Oh my jive! Oh my jive!” between her whimpers! I heard many voices in the nearby background. They must be hearing us! I felt an unspeakable jolt of excitement at the thought that they were going to find us having such wild sex!
I screamed hard as I blissfully ejaculated! I felt my shots of hot sperm leaving my dick in long, powerful bursts as I filled her up for the second time!
The intensity was nothing short of preternatural! I had never, ever experienced such an intensely powerful ejaculation!
As my panting subsided and I was able to stand, I managed to escape my companion’s holding arms and ran to where the voices were coming from.
What I saw left me speechless.
A team of rescuers were present near my Corvette’s twisted wreck along with policemen with their car and a waiting ambulance parked on the distant roadside.
They were placing a body on a stretcher. A doctor knelt beside the unconscious man; he checked the man’s heart with a stethoscope, then he checked his eyes. Finally, he spoke: “We’ll take him to the hospital, but you better call the coroner! The pilot is dead.”
My mouth opened wide and I wanted to scream, but no sound came out! This dead pilot… He was wearing my own forest-green polo shirt, and I instantly recognized my black denim trousers on him, with these black Chuck Taylor’s I had bought on a sunny day in Quebec City…
“This man… this is me! This is me!” I uttered in petrified shock. The pilot they were carrying on that stretcher had a bloody, gaping wound on the left side of his head. And he looked identical to me.
“Calm down, Mister! Calm down, Mister!” my companion said as she hugged me from behind with her corpse-cold hands; she had removed her gloves. “I didn’t want you to see this. You were dead within seconds after the impact. I wanted to tell you the sad news gently.”
I panicked!
“Hey! I’m here! Hey policeman! Hey Doctor! You made a mistake! I’m alive! I’m alive!” I hollered, but the paramedics carrying the stretcher kept walking away along with everybody else.
“They can’t hear you, honey! They can’t see us!” my companion said, Eve-naked like a shadow in Dante’s Inferno, as she tenderly hugged my Adam-naked body. The spooky night’s chill didn’t bother us.
I began sobbing… “But… Delphine… Delphine!”
“Oh, my love, I know it’s such a huge shock at first! And yes, you can call me Delphine if you want. Now hear me! Hear my story…
“When it happened a year ago, me and eighty-plus souls found ourselves suddenly wandering as frightened ghosts after that horrible accident had burned or crushed or decapitated our bodies where we stood in that hapless crowd!”
I stopped sobbing and listened, curious to know her fate.
She went on… “When the fire burned my flesh with soul-wrenching pain, my last living thought was filled with sadness—I had never known love. I was dying at only 22 years of age without ever having known love and pleasure in the arms of a man!
“And there I remained, a lost soul wandering around Le Mans, alone. All the other ghosts soon floated away to be near their loved ones and try to tell them, in vain or in dreams, that they were still there, but I had no one. I was left all alone in the chill twilight of the in-between.
“Since a pilot had killed me, I decided I was going to take a pilot’s life. That man you saw on the road was an illusion, the image of my desire. I used it to cause the accident in this dangerous part of the circuit, where the track is directly bordered with a forest of large trees.
“I would have kept trying year after year if you had survived. I’m sorry and very sad for you, Mister, but I’m so glad to have you with me! Do you know what it’s like to be alone in this state? It is so sad, so lonely!
“But now, Mister, we are married souls! We had to copulate twice, in order to seal our union both in light and in darkness. Now we can go together and cross the Styx River. We will share eternity. And by the way, the sex was amazing!”
The End.