When she came back she must have been wondering why I was tottering after her like an old woman.When she came back she must have been wondering why I was tottering after her like an old woman. "Where did you go?" she says, "I thought you were right behind me." "Uh," I quipped. We hoosiers are widely known for our rapier wits. It was bad enough having platinum blonde hair. I felt like everyone was looking at me. Of course they weren't, but I still don't know if they were just being polite. Especially the shop assistant. I think she suspected that maybe I had forgotten to take my medication or something. Finally, I had what I needed, and we left. I thought we would go home then, but he made me sit through lunch at a yuppie health food brass-and-fern-bar. Sit is the operative word. Over lunch he told me my chain was coming off soon, for good. My feelings were mixed. At that particular moment I would have been glad to get it off for even a few minutes, but permanently? Did that mean J was ending our relationship? Over the hacksaw blades? I asked him. He didn't answer, he just smiled in a way that said "Of course not, silly." When we got home, he cuffed my hands in front of me and had me lie down on the bed while he cut the chain from my waist. Slowly, he removed the device that was inside me. He told me to run a shower. In the shower, he washed me all over, my hair, everywhere. His fingers probed everywhere, slithering into every crevice. I got extremely turned on within minutes, and pressed against him, sending body-language signals at every opportunity. |