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You know Joe ... uhm ... Mr. Solomon is a poet and playwright as well?”“Joe’s fine. He’d insist. How’d that go?”“What do you mean?”“He said he wanted to chat you up.”“It went well,” she blushed.“That good?”“Yeah.”Jeff laughed. “Joe’s something else.”“That he is. Anyway, have you ever thought of publishing his plays or poetry?”“That’s not something we do.”“I understand, but...”“You know the original partners used to work at a literary magazine.”“I didn’t.”“That’s where they met. One got an. Within a second, John estimated that she was probably a secretary, or an accountant or something along those lines. In any case she was most likely a somewhat mousy, maybe shy lady who would probably let go of her inhibitions when liquored up to the brim, but then again she may have been someone who simply wouldn't ever get really liquored up in the first place. Maybe a juice, and that was it.But mousy or not, she looked really attractive; she had friendly eyes that suggested hidden, dark. I gently toweled myself off, yet again picking up an extra towel to dry my hair off, for forgetting that it had all been removed especially for tonight. The preparations had taken so long. I was shivering with anticipation even then. It had started. My final day.I dropped my towel into the washing basket, and slowly walked through the house to the kitchen, where my electrolyte drink was waiting. This was all I had been allowed to drink for a week, and coupled with the enemas, I was totally. "What we did, the d**gs, and even the sex, felt too good, too right, to be wrong. I love you, Geo, and always have. It was never sexual till I found you at the strip club, but I don't regret any of it." You love me, John?" She asks, and I can only nod. She pulls me into a huge hug, whispering, "I love you, too." Okay, you two. If you keep that up, we'll never get out of here today." Amber says as she enters the kitchen.We break the hug, and all pile back into their car. Dixie is driving this.
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