Do you have fantasies of shooting famous music legends?

I felt proud of myself. I had stolen the honey of a spasm without impairing the morals of a minor. Absolutely no harm done. The conjurer had poured milk molasses, foaming champagne into a young lady's new white purse, and lo, the purse was intact. Thus I had delicately constructed my ignoble, ardent, sinful dream; and still Lolita was safe - and I was safe. What I had madly possessed was not she, but my own creation, another, fanciful Lolita - perhaps, more real than Lolita; overlapping, encasing her; floating between me and her, and having no will, no consciousness - indeed, no life of her own.